And Justice for All
by Dobi Boushi
Summary: Justice of the world? The world's justice is the justice of whoever sits atop it, that is why the justice of the world is the wrong: for it is the justice of the King - justice which was once blind and is now dead. Justice is lost, justice is raped, justice is gone, pulling your strings, justice is done. Seeking no truth, winning is all. Find it so grim, so true. So real. Post 423.
1. The Bliss in Ignorance

_Obligatory one off disclaimer: I do not, will I ever own _Bleach _or any song/program/item I may reference in this work_ -_ would I be here if I did? The rights are all held by their respective owners and/or creators._

_Please note for future reference; this story is rated M and will contain frequent bloody violence, mild use of torture, regular use of strong language, topics that some might find offence and/or vulgar, strong and frequent sexual references and innuendos and mild sexual content that some might be uncomfortable with and _numerous _**character deaths **(there is no Plot Armour here). Whilst at first things might seem PG-13 I assure you it will get worse; you have been warned, this is a grim!dark _Bleach_ story not intended for the faint of heart._

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><p>Justice is lost<br>Justice is raped  
>Justice is gone<br>Pulling your strings  
>Justice is done<br>Seeking no truth  
>Winning is all<br>Find it so grim  
>So true<br>So real

_And Justice for All_ - Metallica

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><p><em>Justice is dead to the world,<em>

_And nobody even knows it;_

_So forth went Abaddon in retribution,_

_Blade held high in defiance with Pride standing tall_

_ Whilst five riders lead the Un__forgiven_

_Forward unto dawn and into the meadows of Heaven_

_to punish the wicked and self-righteous,_

_To the sound of tolling bells and shattering Seals,_

_They clashed to the bitter end,_

_Fighting for Glory, Redemption, __Balance_

…**And Justice for ****All**

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><p><strong>Prologue <strong>_– The Bliss in Ignorance_

She had promised herself she wouldn't cry. But, in the grand scheme of things, promises were such easy things to break: no more so brittle than the glass of a fragile mirror. And if each broken promise was a shattered mirror then she would have long ago broken enough to ensure she would be plagued by disastrous luck for all of eternity. And that was just from the past few months alone.

But as Kuchiki Fumiko stood in the ashen remains of the once glorious Shiba manor, she decided that maybe it was better to let herself cry. _Just this once, though… _What was one more broken promise to the already never-ending list?

Lifting her violet gaze from the crack floorboard on the ground which she'd previously found so interesting, the short, raven-haired woman looked around the charred entrance hall. The entire building creaked under the harsh push of the growing wind as grey clouds gathered overhead, visible through the cracked ceiling. The blackened room seemed so much darker already. Off in the distance she could hear the sound of groaning wood, a slight snap crying out in the silence as somewhere, a banister, or a support beam finally caved under the momentous pressure. _The irony of the situation,_ she thought.

Gently wiping a tear from her eyes, she could only smile wistfully as she recalled how once upon a time the room in which she currently stood would have been alive with laughter and commotion.

No longer.

Now there was only her, dressed in her tattered and burnt Shinigami garb, the black material bloody and damp from a now non-existent downpour. Her Officer's _haori_ was lost to the winds, having been torn from her body during the battle. Her Zanpakutõ - or what was left of it - was secured around her waist, attached to her once vivid violet obi, the broken hilt and what remained of the fragmented blade sticking out of its broken sheath.

Despite herself, Fumiko could still picture the messy children running around the halls with bedraggled servants lolling along behind them in their vain, half-hearted attempt to catch the little runaways; who were no doubt either making their escape, having caused havoc of some sort or abandoned one of their countless tutors in search of more productive means to pass the time. She chuckled dryly, remembering that, at one point in time, she too would have been one of those children gleefully squealing as they made a bid for freedom.

But the days of playing tag and the like with Shiba Akiyama and the rest of her childhood friends around the manor, Akiyama's father joining them on countless occasions - being the overgrown child that he was - had long since passed. But as she stared up at a hole in the ceiling, the grey clouds looking down on her with a grave sternness about them, Fumiko chided herself for recalling such thoughts. Some things were best left forgotten.

_What am I supposed to do…?_ She asked herself, waiting for an answer that would never arrive. Somewhere behind her, the short woman heard the creak of the damaged doors swinging open with an agonising groan of protest, all its effort already spent trying to remain upright. But the wails of the doors went unnoticed, Fumiko too engrossed in her own thoughts to pay the noise any heed.

_So many are dead; Shihõin-sensei, Akiyama, Ryûkami… Ichiro,_ at the thought of her beloved husband the dam broke. Her knees finally gave out as she crashed to the battered floorboards, soot jumping into the air and dancing around her.

_What did _any _of them do to deserve the hand fate dealt them?_ And why, of all people, was she still alive when so many stronger than her had already fallen by the wayside like rice in the harvest field? It just wasn't _fair_. But, then again, nothing was _ever _fair. Because that was the universe's most important rule.

Fumiko hung her head as the sobs racked her small frame, the heavens bursting with a screech of thunder and the darkening skies crying. _Where did it all go wrong?_ she wondered hopelessly, her small hands tightening into fists as the imagines of those that had abandoned Soul Society swam before her mind's eye. _Traitorous scum…!_

She wanted to scream in blind fury. Curse them for all she was worth for what they had done. But a hand landed on her shaking shoulder before she could give into her anger. Whoever it was didn't speak, however: they just let her cry the last of her tears, for which she was grateful. If she didn't get it out now, she would only break down later when she could least afford to do so. _Everyone left is looking to me for answers I don't have! But breaking down in front of them isn't going to help anyone,_ she told herself.

After wiping away the last of her tears, Fumiko hiccupped in an embarrassed fashion, rubbing her blotchy eyes. Taking a deep breath, she nodded to her companion that she was done. Feeling the hand lift, the invisible ten-ton weight that she'd been shouldering for the last few hours went with it - she wasn't alone anymore.

The Kuchiki noblewoman let her breathing return to normal before she summoned the energy to clamber back to her still shaking feet. Dusting off her tattered robes, she turned to see who had found her in her grief-stricken state.

"Kuchiki-sama," Yamamoto Genryûsai murmured grimly, inclining his head in respect. Yamamoto was a young, raven-haired Shinigami who looked to be in his early twenties, his long hair was pulled back into a braided ponytail and his dark red eyes, once soft and full of warmth, were hard and narrowed coldly. A fresh scar marred his forehead, a screwed line running from the corner of his left eye and disappearing into his hair. "The other remaining senior Shinigami were concerned; you left the meeting without notifying anyone about where you were going."

"_Gomennasai_, Yamamoto-kun," Fumiko muttered like a reprimanded child, "those petty arguments weren't really helping anyone and I needed to clear my head so I could think more clearly."

"Agreed," the younger Shinigami intoned gruffly. "I too have been thinking; this war will not be easy to recover from, and much will need to change in the coming years. As the most senior Shinigami remaining you'll no doubt be appointed as the one to lead the change. That means becoming the Captain-Commander of the remaining Royal Court Guardsmen." He doubted he needed to remind Kuchiki Fumiko, of all people, of the seriousness of the current situation.

"I had assumed as much," Fumiko replied bitterly. She'd never wanted to be the Captain-Commander: that had always been Akiyama's dream. But there was nothing she could do about it now. "…Our first order of business is the Õken. As of this moment it is now officially Soul Society's most prized possession – we will have to hide it away, anywhere that could be overlooked will do for now. Only a select few can know of its location and what it is truly capable of. If word reaches the people of Rukongai about what we have done to one of the most holy artefacts in our possession it would start a riot – possibly another war."

"Understood, Kuchiki-sama,"

"…we'll have to destroy all mention of this war." Fumiko said softly, cupping her chin between her right forefinger and thumb, eyes closed in thought. Nobody can ever know the truth. _Nobody besides those who lived it can know how close we cam__e to defeat. We have to preserve what we can to protect the future generations._ "No one can ever know of how close we came to utter destruction - or learn anything of those that brought us to our knees. I want all reports concerning the past year delivered to the Kuchiki estate by this time tomorrow; I'll preserve the bare essentials and see the rest burnt to nothing more than ash."

"With all due respect, Kuchiki-sama how is that going to help anyone?" Yamamoto demanded, his brow crinkling into a rather ugly expression, his new scar magnified by the movement. He didn't understand how acting ignorant would help anyone.

"Simple," she said, responding to the question he'd left unasked. "Ignorance is bliss. We'll begin again with a clean slate. We'll wash our hands of the war that has just been waged and focus instead on rebuilding. Our enemies have been dealt with and sealed where they belong and will never be able to threaten us or anyone else ever again." How Soul Society would one day learn to rue those words. "We have no need to remind ourselves of them any longer. Now come, Yamamoto, we have much work to do and precious little time to do it in."

But Kuchiki Fumiko could not be more wrong. The war they had just waged was _far_ from over. It was merely halftime. And, in time, Soul Society's greatest enemy would emerge again; more terrible than ever to reap vengeance and harvest sorrow sevenfold after what had been done to them. Done to the justice of the world…

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><p><em>And thus my epic can truly begin, published exactly one year to the day that the original hit the site and a hundred times better than before. I thank all those that took time to readfavourite/alert and/or review this brief prologue (me love you long time if you reviewed); it means a very great deal to me to know people take time out of their day to appreciate my work in some manner or another. __As with the original this will be updated bi-weekly, though on Saturdays this time around instead of Fridays, as to allow me time to work on this and keep up with my course work for collage._

_That said I'll see folks on February 11th with_ Normality is Overrated _as we catch up with our hero: Kurosaki Ichigo, seventeen months after his titanic clash (read: Curb-Stomp Battle) with Aizen Sõsuke and there's a few odd things going on in Karakura Town. Tune in next time to find out more~!_

_Do a barrel roll~!_


	2. Normality is Overrated

"_We have normality. I repeat; we have normality. Anything you still can't cope with is therefore your own problem."_

- Douglas Adams

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><p>…<strong>And Justice for All<strong>

**Act I - Enter the Unforgiven**

**Chapter I - **_Normality is Overrated_

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><p><strong>Wednesday, 20th of April<strong>

Kurosaki Ichigo rolled over on his bed with a dull groan as he realised he was awake. Throwing a forearm over his eyes, he tried to protect himself from the harsh glare of the sun, the early morning rays invading through the window next to his bed through the gap in the curtains. Off in the distance he could hear the birds chirping out a song together, gliding across the cloudless sky as they rode the morning breeze.

A strong, delicious scent wafted up to his room from the kitchen downstairs. The most likely culprit for the heavenly smell was none other than Yuzu - no doubt hard at work preparing the family breakfast as she did every morning.

Nevertheless, the teen just couldn't be bothered. He put it down to the fact he hadn't been sleeping well as of late. And with his father still due to drop by for his routine 'early-morning-wake-up-call' - nothing more than a flimsy excuse to attack his own son in his sleep - he'd only get grumpier as the day wore on if his usual luck was anything to go by.

"Onii-chan, breakfast is ready!"

Ichigo just grunted in response. Not that Yuzu could hear him all the way downstairs in the kitchen. Throwing his arm away from his face, the former Visored forced himself to sit up in bed, knowing he had to get up eventually anyway. Sighing, he ruffled his wild mane of spiky, shoulder length orange hair. _Hippy, my ass… _he scowled, recalling one of his father's newest, and current favourite, taunt.

"He can insult me when he gets rid of the stupid-ass goat beard," Ichigo grumbled to himself, throwing his legs over the side of his bed as he threw back the covers, planting his bare feet on the cool floorboards below. Sighing, he looked over at the wall beside his desk, a calendar hanging from the wall with the days crossed out as he counted down to summer vacation - which was months away still, the school year having only started at the beginning of April.

Hanging his head, Ichigo buried his face in his hands. _I can't believe it's been seventeen_ fuckin' _months already._ Seventeen overly long months in which life had been nothing more than a boring blur as Ichigo dragged himself through the day. Feeling utterly useless all-the-while. _If this is really what normality feels like, then it sucks._

He knew he shouldn't feel bitter over the whole ordeal of losing his powers - but he just couldn't help it. He felt as though everyone had left him behind in some odd fashion. Sure, he still hung out with Inoue, Chad and even the Quincy bastard Uryû on a day-to-day basis, but no longer was he there whenever one of them went off to fight some pesky Hollow or even the odd Arrancar left over from the Winter War who thought themselves strong enough to topple those that had defeated Aizen himself. _I'm just dead weight now. The load._

The shoe was finally on the other foot. _And I hate every single never ending second of it. _It just wasn't fair. Even Karin had more spiritual power than he did; hell, probably Yuzu too, by this point.

Despite all the life threatening danger, he'd take being a Shinigami over being a boring high school senior any day of the week. At least when he was a Shinigami he could protect those that mattered to him – he'd been doing some good.

Grunting in frustration, he stood up and pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind as he stretched, allowing himself a moment to just stand there in his sleeping shirt and a pair of boxers. He shook himself off when he felt the tension drain from his joints.

Grabbing his old grey school uniform off the back of the wheelie chair tucked into the metal desk he had stationed next to the head of his bed, he headed for his bedroom door and from there he would take the risky journey to the bathroom. All the while, he was alert for any surprise attacks that would be coming his way.

Poking his head out of his bedroom door, Ichigo's gaze flicked back and forth between both ends of the corridor, on the lookout for his father. _Where is that crazy old bastard? He's usually pounced at least twice by now…_ it didn't sit right with him. But then again, if his father had indeed miraculously forgotten to follow through with his usual morning ambush then he would make the most of it whilst he could.

But as soon as he entered the overly colourful second floor bathroom, he could have sworn he heard a soft snigger echoing out from the cracks in the walls. Pausing as he closed the door, Ichigo couldn't help but be on full alert. _I wouldn't put it past the old man to attack me in the bathroom… _but after scanning the pale blue titled room at least twice, he let out a sigh of relief and closed the door with a sharp click.

And that's when it happened.

"Super-special-awesome-father-shower-curtain-sneak-attack!" Kurosaki Isshin cried, tackling his son through the shower curtain, having been hiding on the other side for the better part of ten minutes. In his mad attempt to surprise Ichigo, he ended up forgetting to move the shower curtain first and pulled it down with him as he tackled his son around the waist with all his might; sending them both crashing to the floor.

Whilst the first round of the daily Kurosaki father-son battle royal ensued upstairs in the main bathroom of the Kurosaki Family Clinic and home - slightly behind schedule compared to most other days - downstairs in the kitchen, the two Kurosaki twins swapped looks, one of exasperation and the other of worry. Things seemed to be running just as they always did. Now all that was needed was the-

"Damn it, you old bastard!" Ichigo's outraged cry echoed throughout the entire house. No doubt half of Karakura heard it: it was a better wakeup call than any mass produced alarm-clock that was for sure.

_Like clockwork…_ Kurosaki Karin, the dark haired twin, thought with a sour expression. She honestly did feel sorry for her older brother at times. Then again, she felt sorry for herself for having to put up with a man like Kurosaki Isshin for a father. _Nobo__dy should have to endure _that _kind of torture…_

"How much do you wanna bet that if someone looked up the definition of dysfunctional family in the dictionary, they'd find a picture of us?" she said, deadpanning as she leaned back in her seat and gazed across the table at her twin. Following her question more roars of rage and bangs could be heard from the floor above, prompting her to roll her dark eyes. She really felt sorry for Ichigo. "This is ridiculous. I bet you Ichi-nii can't wait to go to college so he doesn't have to worry about Goat-chin attacking him every other ten minutes of the day."

Shaking her head, she pushed her bowl forward towards her sister, attempting to ignore the ghost hovering over her shoulder; she'd gotten used to it after nearly three years. Her sister, Yuzu, on the other hand, just smiled and nodded her understanding. Pushing away from the table, she moved to refill Karin's bowl. Meanwhile, Karin gave the ghost a quick punch, sending it flailing through the wall and out into the hall.

"You know daddy, Karin-chan," Yuzu offered in a knowing fashion, smiling to herself at the thought of the antics her father got up to when he wasn't supervised. It was difficult to tell who the real child of the household was these days, seeing as Kurosaki Isshin could act in a manner that made six year olds look mature beyond their years.

Not five seconds after Yuzu handed Karin back her bowl a loud thumping noise began to echo throughout the house, a large shape crashing to the bottom of the stairs with a high-pitched yelp. The blacked-haired twin just ignored it. Instead she picked up her chopsticks and began to eat her breakfast, knowing the heap would be her father; the idiot hadn't won a fight with Ichigo since their brother had hit puberty. With an annoyed sigh she blew some loose bangs out of her left eye, her raven hair no longer cropped but straight and smooth, pulled up into a loose ponytail at the back of her head.

"You never learn, do you?" was all she said to the child trapped in a man's body, turning a deaf ear to his wails of self-pity as he dashed into the room, throwing himself in front of his wife's memorial portrait. Yuzu, on the other hand, was torn, unsure whether to try and comfort the overly-dramatic man or not. A serving ladle in one hand, she held out the other in front of her, as if reaching out for her father. Her sister just shook her head, however, prompting her to retract her hand sharply.

"Don't encourage him," was all Karin had to say, spinning her chair around so she could watch the man now crying like a baby. Crossing her arms and legs as one, she tapped a sock covered foot off the hardwood flooring, causing the ends of her pleated navy school skirt to flutter with the movement. She and her sister had already dressed for school in their traditional white and navy sailor outfits. "You really did it this time, didn't you, Goat-chin?"

"Me?" Isshin cried in outrage, springing up from the floor and pointing at himself with an indignant look on his face. His spiky black hair swayed about as he recoiled at the look his tomboyish daughter was giving him, almost as if she'd slapped him silly. His deep amber-brown eyes welled up with tears again. The idiot was still dressed in his baggy sleeping pants and plain shirt, Karin noticed with disdain. _Doesn't he have to open the clinic in half an hour? _"What did I do? Your delinquent brother only has another year with us before going off to college! As man of the house it is my sworn _duty _to impart upon him as much of my knowledge as I can in that tiny time frame!"

"…You're an idiot," Karin stated blankly after pausing for a moment. Her comment was all it took to set her father off again. Meanwhile, she herself could only frown in annoyance. Shaking her head, she spun her chair back around and resumed her breakfast. At least she'd have plenty of experience for whenever she finally had kids - if any. Living with Isshin was more than enough.

"Oh, my dear Masaki!" Isshin almost shrieked, tears sprouting from his eyes like fountains as he clasped onto his knees, throwing his hands onto the picture of his beloved wife. Hands high in the air, his fingertips brushed the surface of the portrait. "All I ever do is attempt to help them become better people and they return my undying love and affection with scorn and abuse! Wherever did I go wrong?"

"Where do you want me to begin?" Karin threw back, looking over her shoulder at her father. In response the childish man only wept harder, his shrieks of despair barely audible anymore. Yuzu shot her younger sister a disapproving look.

"That was a little harsher than necessary, Karin-chan," she chided with a small frown. But Karin just shrugged back and returned to her breakfast. She honestly didn't understand why people thought she and Ichi-nii were the weird ones in the family. Clearly, they had not yet met Kurosaki Isshin, a fact that they should be eternally grateful for.

But Karin was soon dragged from her thoughts as her brother came stalking into the room, dressed in his usual grey school uniform with black t-shirt underneath. The older of the Kurosaki children quickly lifted one leg so their father, who was already in mid-tackle, came to an early stop when his face connected with Ichigo's sock-covered foot.

"Not in the mood, old man," Ichigo said, his brow twitching as his father crashed back to the floor, before jumping back to his feet and rushing towards the poster - sobbing _again_. The orange-haired young man could only let out an agitated sigh as he walked over to the table, taking the seat opposite Karin, who couldn't help but notice her brother looked much more worn and weary than usual. But nonetheless he smiled weakly as a sign of gratitude when Yuzu handed him breakfast his breakfast. "Thanks, Yuzu,"

"Anytime, Onii-chan~!" She beamed back, twirling on the spot before heading back to fetch her own breakfast as Isshin finally decided to give it a rest for the time being, taking his usual seat at the head of the table and quickly ravaging the breakfast his daughter had prepared for him. Getting constantly beaten senseless by Ichigo was a great way to build up an appetite. The family breakfast finally began to take a sense of normality as the minutes ticked by.

Or rather, everyone else had a sense of normalcy besides Karin, who could only glare into her bowl of half-eaten steamed rice and broiled fish with natto and soy sauce. The damn ghost was back again, and he would _not_ shut up. This wasn't fair. She'd never asked to be able to see these damn things in the first place, and now that Ichigo couldn't see them, they were always coming to annoy her instead; moaning about their apparent problems. Sure, some were nice enough and could take a hint when needed. Apparently not this latest ghost. The short, plump, bespectacled man with greasy black hair just didn't seem to accept the fact she was trying her hardest to ignore him for all the good it did.

"Ah, don't be like that!" he moaned childishly, as though talking non-stop for the past five minutes was nothing for him. "I _know _you can see me~ C'mon, is it so bad I just want to talk to someone after so long? You're such a rude little girl, you know?" And Karin's resolve finally crumbled.

_Snap. SLAM! _"Will you just shut the hell up already!" Karin blinked in utter horror as the ghost recoiled like a wounded animal. But she hadn't even had a chance to open her mouth yet…

Casting her gaze across the table, she saw her brother standing over it, his cracked breakfast bowl having been slammed against the table, its contents spilling onto the wooden surface and his snapped chop sticks clutched in his other hand. And he looked utterly furious.

"Onii-chan, nobody was talking…" Yuzu squeaked, looking slightly fearful at her brother's sudden outburst. But Karin looked over her shoulder in horror, staring at the ghost now cowering in the corner. _Can Ichi-nii _hear _him, too?_ she wondered, mouth slightly agape.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the table Ichigo did a double take, pushing away from the table, knocking his chair down with a clatter. He could only stare at his shocked family. Yuzu was right, there was only the four of them currently present and no one had been saying anything. _Am I hearing things…? Have I finally cracked and gone batshit crazy like everyone said I would?_

Ichigo's gaze briefly meet his father's, Isshin's expression caught between being furious over his son's outburst and worried because of it. Shaking his head, the former Visored quickly bent over and picked up his chair, pushing it into the table and fleeing from the room.

"I've got to get going to school, I'm going to be late!" he called over his shoulder, unable to deal with anyone else right now. He just needed time to think.

"Ichigo!" his father called after him. But it was too late. Ichigo had already grabbed his school bag from the base of the stairs, slipped his Converse on and was halfway out the door. "See you all after school!" he called, slamming the door behind him. Hanging his head, Ichigo ran and hand through his mess of spiky neck-length orange hair. _Just wha__t the hell is happening to me…?_

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><p>On the edges of the Mitsumiya commercial distract of Karakura Town, a lone man stood outside a battered-looking building which was in need of some rather dire, and expensive, touch ups. The name Urahara Shõten was slapped across the white sign above the sliding door in painted in black kanji, the paint beginning to peel after years of neglect.<p>

Leaning against the dark stained wall of the rickety old building, a traditional pipe perched between his lips, Urahara Kisuke watched the world pass him by from behind the shadows cast by the brim of his favourite green and white striped bucket hat. The smoke from his pipe danced playfully in the morning breeze. His usual black _haori _was draped over his shoulders, shielding him from the bitterly cold touch of said breeze.

As he took a slow drag of his pipe, he heard the door to his shop and home quietly slide open to his left. His steely grey eyes flicked to the side, offering a small nod of acknowledgement to his new companion as they stepped out, sliding the door closed behind them.

"It's good to see you again," he greeted in his usual jovial tone, a goofy smile tugging at his lips. But, after a moment's pause, he let his gaze return to the morning sky, waiting to see if a cloud would pop up as a means of distraction. Whilst on good terms, he and his companion hardly shared the perfect history with one another.

"It's good to see you again too, Urahara," was the reply. Then a beat of silence. "Thought I'd have liked it if it could have been under better circumstances." Urahara merely offered a soft hum of agreement. No doubt his companion was probing for information, scratching at the surface to see if he knew any more than they did. "The higher ups within Soul Society are very concerned over what's been happening over the past few weeks: both here and the occasional incident within Rukongai, too."

"And with good reason." Urahara nodded in grim agreement, though he had a hard time repressing a chuckle after taking note of his companion's annoyed expression out of the corner of his eye. "I've never seen anything quite like this before. The Reiatsu is most particular. It doesn't bode well." The way the man spoke, he could have been talking about the _weather _of all things.

His companion merely gave an undignified snort, folding their arms over their chest and rolling their eyes. _How un-lady-like of her, _he sniggered to himself.

"The Captain-Commander has requested that if you possess any knowledge on the situation that you please share it with us. I am also to inform you that the Central Forty Six has ordered your full cooperation."

_Is that so…?_ Urahara thought with a bemused smile, though he quickly adjusted his hat to hide his offending smile. _I was unaware that my full pardo__n brought me back under the command of the Gotei Thirteen and the Central Forty Six_. Instead he just decided to cup his chin in a mock-thoughtful manner, shaking his head slightly. _I guess it goes with the territory of all the reforms taking place within b__oth the Central Forty Six and the Gotei itself. _Now that's something he never thought he'd live to see - let alone both happen at the same time. But as he pushed the brim of his bucket hat upwards and made to take a drag on his pipe, he could quite clearly see his fellow Shinigami watching him with interest.

"You're assuming I do know more than Soul Society," he said after a moment of supposed thought, tone childishly airy and rather condescending. All he got for his dry wit was another roll of the eyes. _Y__ou forget, I don't have the resources I once did and I was only prepared as I was for Aizen because I knew he was going to turn eventually. I don't have that this time._ "Assumptions like those have been known to get people killed in the past. I wouldn't like to see that happen again, and to you of all people."

"Yes. But when assumptions about knowledge which involve you are almost guaranteed to hold true to the idea that you know more than you let on, Urahara."

The Shinigami Captain turned shop-keeper gave a sheepish chuckle. The barb did not go unmissed, and he felt the strange need to pull the brim of his hat back down hide his eyes. He probably deserved that one, though, he mused. "Personal experience aside, I'm sure you know something. Even if it isn't much more than what we already know, you wouldn't really be Urahara Kisuke if you weren't at least a step ahead of everyone else."

"Please, you make too much of me," Urahara waved off the praise with a feminine flick of his wrist. Though his devilish grin did not hide the fact his ego did enjoy the stroking - he was a man after all. All men liked a good stroking - in more than one way, he sniggered to himself. But the fake cough from his companion sent his perverted train of thought screeching from the tracks. "…I might have one or two theories as to what is going on. Nothing concrete, though." _It's all speculation for the time being. But I pray those speculations are _wrong.

"I thought as much," was the reply. His companion was by no means stupid. Far from it. Though she was a little sceptical of Urahara at times, it wasn't like the man gave her reason not to be. She trusted that he knew when it was time to joke around and when it was time to act his age…metaphorically speaking, anyway. But that made her think, just how old was Urahara really?

"Ah well, there'll be plenty of time for idle chit-chat later. I believe you have somewhere to be, isn't that right, _Lieutenant_?" He didn't miss the slight widening of her eyes, nor the flush of her checks. Oh yes, he knew about _that_. "I would say congratulations are in order, but that would be a little premature of me, wouldn't it?" he teased with a chuckle.

"I'm sure that's not the only time you've been _premature_, Urahara." He couldn't help but smile at the indignant grumbles from the other Shinigami. He'd never pegged her as one for little innuendos such as the number that she had retorted with. But then again, Urahara mused with an amused expression, a year and half did a lot to change a person.

But as the grumbling relented, Urahara produced a phone from the pocket of his green pants, quickly pulling out a ring binder stuffed with information from nowhere almost immediately afterwards. The young woman took them and muttered a weak "_Arigatõ_, Urahara."

"Thank me later." Urahara shook his head, smiling to himself. "All the details concerning the Shinigami currently on duty in Karakura are stored in the folder. You'll no doubt run into them before the day is out. I've also chosen to include some of my test data concerning the strange occurrences that have taken place over the past four or five weeks. You yourself might not find them very useful, but if handed to the Twelfth, I'm sure someone could put them to good use. I've also upgraded your Soul Pager: it's now capable of detecting these strange portals, or whatever they are, should one appear within range of you. But," he added, seeing her turn away from him. His voice lowered and his face became unusually serious as he chanced a glance around them for a brief second. "I suggest you exercise extreme caution if you do opt to investigate whatever is coming out of these portals. The readings and information I've gather so far suggest whatever they are, they're more dangerous than your average Hollow; much more… Now run along or you're going to be late~!"

She could only blink at his sudden change in demeanour. One second Urahara was having one of his serious moments, and the next, he was back to being the jovial fool she knew him as, whipping out his stupid fan despite the cold morning breeze. It was probably just him showing off, she concluded after a moment.

Nonetheless, she offered a thankful nod for his words of concern and the information. Tucking her Soul Pager in to the pocket of her grey pleated skirt, she hid the folder insider her shoulder-bag, quickly making sure it fit inside with all her books and supplies before zipping the back up. Meanwhile, Urahara just watched her out of the corner of his eye. She'd definitely changed since the last time he'd spoke to her personally: there was just something about the way she carried herself now. "You might want to fix your tie," Urahara said casually, pointing his folded fan at the tangled mess around her neck, which had been done in a rush.

The Shinigami just nodded, quickly untying and retying the red material around her neck, making sure the collar of her white shirt was straight. She wanted to make a good first impression, after all. "_Gomennasai_, Urahara, but you're right. I must be off now or else I'll be late." She gave a quick bow and Urahara nodded his understanding, sliding his fan back up his sleeve for later.

Taking one final puff of his pipe, the shop keeper watched the young Shinigami disappear from sight around the corner. Humming to himself softly, he emptied ash onto the ground at his feet and pocketed his pipe, deciding it was time to return to business as usual now that everything had been taken care of.

"You certainly have a way with people, Kisuke," a masculine voice comment from around his ankle, prompting the shop keeper to look down, seemingly befuddled by the sudden arrival of yet another familiar face. Though said face was covered in black fur and had whiskers…

"Yoruichi~!" he sang, grabbing the black off the ground and lifting her into his arms. "Who's a good kitty, who's a good kitty~?" he cooed, tickling the cat's belly. Smirking as he elicited a content purr from his feline companion, the platinum blond could only chuckle to himself in victory. Though in the back of his mind, he knew that Yoruichi would get him back for this humiliation later.

And part of him couldn't wait. After all, Yoruichi could be rather… creative, when it came to thinking up new punishments for him.

"If you weren't you, Kisuke, I'd scratch your face off," the cat muttered, trying to wriggle out of the tickle-fest and regain some measure of dignity. The former Captain of the Twelfth Division gave an exasperated sigh of betrayal, allowing his face to fall into a childish pout.

"You can be so cruel sometimes, Yoruichi."

"Why don't we test your theory and see how cruel I can be?" the cat rebuked with something akin to a smirk. Yep, he was definitely going to get it later. But the pair of old friends shared a small chuckle, Yoruichi curling up against Urahara's chest, allowing him to scratch behind her ears. "You're playing a very dangerous game. You do realise that, don't you, Kisuke?"

"My dear Yoruichi," Urahara tutted, the condescending noise lost on neither of them as he shook his head. _If he wasn't holding me I would h__ave bet good money on him having pull out that ridiculous fan of his by now_…the cat thought. "What other way _is _there to play?"

"Touché, Kisuke, touché…"

* * *

><p>"…and it was just so totally awesome! Can you believe it?" Asano Keigo announced, waving his arms around frantically in a vain attempt to make his rather dull story seem much more dramatic than it really was. All it did in reality was make him look like a bigger fool than usual. "…<em>Ichigooooo<em>, are you even listening to me~?" he whined in that simpering tone of his, pouting like a five-year-old who'd just had a toy taken from them.

"Yeah. Awesome. Totally unbelievable." Ichigo grunted, his mind still stuck on his outburst that morning during breakfast. He'd have to apologize to Karin and Yuzu later for scaring them. They'd both looked so freaked out - and it was all because he couldn't control his own temper and was letting himself get riled up over seemingly hearing voices in his head.

Keigo just groaned in defeat, tears running comically down his checks like a faulty fountain as his shoulders sagged dejectedly. "Why does nobody ever want to listen to me when I have a story to tell…?" he whimpered. Life was so unfair to him. What had he ever done to deserve such ridiculous treatment?

"You say something, Keigo?" Ichigo asked. He shook his head as he finally came out of his daze only to find Keigo lying on the floor next to his feet curled up in the foetal position, rocking back and forth as he sucked his thumb like some giant baby. "…the hell?" the former Visored asked himself, utterly lost as to why his friend was crying on the floor.

Rolling his eyes, Ichigo grabbed the collar of his friend's jacket and hauled the overgrown child down the hallway to their classroom at the end. _As if dealing wi__th the old man wasn't bad enough…_ But after a few moments of hauling Keigo along, he finally reached classroom three-three. With a grateful grunt, he ripped the sliding door open and threw the other teen in headfirst; watching him crash to the floor and slide along it, face first, of course. Wincing slightly, Ichigo realised he'd probably overdone it and decided to take pity on the idiot and help him up.

Stepping into the classroom and making a beeline for Keigo so he could haul him to his feet, Ichigo heard an obviously fake cough come from the front of the room near the teacher's desk. _Ah crap… _Ichigo groaned inwardly, knowing that his already bad day was about to get ten times worse, and that was if he was lucky.

Keigo, unsurprisingly, sprang back to his feet with more vigour than should have been possible, dusting himself off as he muttered complaints under his breath about being unappreciated. In fact, he was so worked up in his own self-pity to realise the entire class was now staring at him and Ichigo.

"Pray tell, Kurosaki-san, but do you care to explain why you _and _Asano-san are both late this morning and you're throwing him around the school like a rag-doll?" Hanging his head, Ichigo turned on the spot to face the speaker. Shizumi Lila was the teacher who had taken over Ichigo's homeroom at the beginning of the semester due to the fact that their previous one had to go on maternity leave at the end of the previous school year.

Shizumi clicked her tongue impatiently as she stood before the blackboard, half-written scribbled notes decorating the surface behind her. Ichigo's lack of response prompted her brow to crinkle in frustration, her oval shaped glasses sliding down her nose as she frowned at her student with orange eyes over the top of her spectacles. She was a woman of average height, with platinum blond hair that reached her neck in length. Currently, she'd pulled it into a messy bun at the back of her head with a few messy strands hanging down over her face.

Shizumi herself was dressed in a rather plain white blouse, which just _happened _to be see-through, allowing everyone to easily see the rather lacy purple bra she wore beneath - and just for good measure she'd left the top few buttons undone to give the boys a look at her decent cleavage. In addition to her knee length skirt, with small triangular slits cut into the sides, she wore a large, purple belt with a gold buckle she wore slanted across her hips which seemed to serve no real purpose. _Just how the hell does she get away with wearing this __stuff?_

She was the kind of women that knew that men, especially hormone driven young men, drooled over and she revealed in it. The definition of vanity. She had nearly all the boys in the class wrapped around her little finger and they loved it whenever she took five seconds to spare them any attention. Not Ichigo - he despised the woman. _Well, she _is _out to get me. Or it seems like she is: she's not happy unless my school life is a living hell. _Ichigo just stuffed his hands into his pockets and decided it was about time to face the music. _I still don't get what she's got against me…_

"Well, Kurosaki? I'm _waiting_…" Ichigo just glared at the woman. He honestly didn't care at this point. _She's such a vindictive bitch. _What had he ever done to her? Exist? Did he somehow piss her off in a previous life, her spirit still holding a grudge against him and no one got the memo to him about it? Apparently so…

But he knew he had to say something. So, shrugging his shoulders he opted for the truth. "Keigo was being a moron and it was either be later than we already were, or I drag him here. I went for the latter."

"So it would seem…" Shizumi pursed her lips, letting out an annoyed sigh. "Very well, you and Asano-san can make up for the time you've missed and time you've wasted just now in detention with me tomorrow after school." The woman made to turn back to the blackboard and continue her writing, but Ichigo just couldn't help himself.

"That's bullshit! I gotta work tomorrow!" he roared. He didn't care if this would only make things worse for him - it wasn't like they _could _get much worse to begin with at this stage. He was just tired of being the bitch's chew toy.

"That's not _my _problem, Kurosaki." The look Shizumi gave him made any retort die in his mouth. Ichigo could only close his mouth and bare his teeth as he felt the pressure of his homeroom teacher's unfaltering glare, neither even trying to mask their utter loathing for the other."Now close the door and get to your seat. I've honestly had enough of this. _No back talk._"

Ichigo just turned around to face the door, his teeth grinding against each other as he tried not to slam the door shut. It would do him no good at this point. He was convinced now that someone out there was out to get him. And it wasn't like he could go out and find some helpless Hollow to pound on until he felt the anger and stress drained away completely. Nope, now he was just stuck as an ordinary person and couldn't even _see _Hollows in the first place - much less beat the snot out of one.

Dragging his chair out from the desk at the back of the room, Ichigo dropped into it, aimlessly dropping his bag down alongside him. Resting his elbows on the desk, he buried his face in his hands as Shizumi rambled on about something to do with English - being an English teacher and all. But after a few minutes, he heard the classroom door slide open again, everyone bar him turning to see who had showed up.

"Sorry I'm late sensei. I'm-" _Why does that voice s__ound familiar…?_ Ichigo thought, quirking an eyebrow behind his hands.

"Yes, yes. I was told you'd be returning to this class. Seeing as you're transferring back, I don't think introductions are necessary." Ichigo could hear a round of whispering run through the room. Clearly, whoever the transfer was, he wasn't the only one that recognised them. "Just take a seat so we can move on. The one next to Kurosaki is free." Said teen could only groan into his hands. Just what he needed, getting stuck with the transfer student.

But as the seconds dragged on, he heard the chair at the desk next to his get drawn out and someone sitting down in it. But then the newcomer spoke, and Ichigo's blood ran cold. "Hello, Ichigo, it's been a while." He _knew _that fake sweet, cheery voice! Even after all this time, it still made the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention.

Lowering his hands away from his face, Ichigo looked to his right. And to his horror, his suspicions were confirmed. Sitting at the desk next to him, seemingly short as ever, was Kuchiki Rukia, dressed in the grey jacket and matching pleated skirt, with white blouse and smart red tie. Her raven-black hair was pulled into a ponytail that hung between her shoulders, with the same old strand hanging between her violet eyes.

"It's good to see you again. I hope you don't mind having to sit next to me again." She smiled at him, eyes twinkling and he knew she was enjoying every single minute of this. If it wasn't for everyone else present and Shizumi, she'd probably be laughing herself hoarse.

But if Rukia was here, then what the _hell _was going on? Well, at least this was a sure sign that normalcy was out the window. Good thing too, because in Ichigo's professional opinion, it was seriously overrated.

* * *

><p><em>And there we have chapter número uno; not what everyone was expecting, I'm sure, and for that I apologize. Rest assured however things might not be very fast paced to begin with, but there is<em> a lot _of underlying detail in these first half a dozen chapters that might seem throwaway but will be very important further down the line. Nothing is as it seems, I promise you that. _

_Another note, the final arc of _Bleach _officially began this week, I'm kind of sad to be honest, but also excited for what's to come - given some of the details I've picked up from friends and other sources on this here interwebz it does sound like it could be a damn awesome final arc and the send off _Bleach_ deserves. _

_Oh, something I probably should have cleared up last chapter: everything up until the end of the Arrancar saga _is_ classed as canon within the versus of this story, however any elements introduced by Kubo himself during or after the Lost Representative arc may or may not be included at my discretion. I've already worked out massive amounts of details and theories for this story on my own months ago and all the fine details are final and are not open to change regardless of what Kubo does in the up coming arc. Please understand that this has story has been in the works for nearly _two and half years _and to wait and hope canon will clear up things now when I already worked out my own answer months ago would be counter productive on my part and most likely only screw with my overall plot. This does not mean things introduced in canon as we go along won't be included or ignored complete, I will include what I feel works for the story if it doesn't harm the overall plot of my own work or contradict something I've already done should the canon explanation come after I've already done my own take on the subject. _

_All I ask of you my readers is that you bare with me and I promise you, I will do my utmost to make sure this is the best damn story it can be can for your viewing pleasure. _

_Well, that's my part said, I'll see you all next time, on February 25th, with_ Return of the Dead,_ and remember, me love reviewers long time. _

_Dobi Boushi's blasting off again~!_


	3. Return of the Dead

…**And Justice for All**

**Act I - Enter the Unforgiven**

**Chapter II -** _Return of the Dead_

* * *

><p><strong>Wednesday, 20th of April<strong>

When lunch finally arrived, Rukia quickly scampered off to her old spot atop the school roof, sitting herself against the wire-mesh-fence, legs crossed and a juice-box clutched in one hand as she used the other to guide the straw to her mouth. Ichigo had been quick to follow her up to the roof when the lunch bell rang she noted. The former Visored stalked back and forth directly across from her, shoulders hunched in annoyance and his frown deeper than usual. He folded his arms over his chest as he tried to wrap his mind around the situation that had suddenly landed in his lap with no prior warning.

The adopted Kuchiki couldn't help but take note of the foul silence that lurked over the group gathered on the roof. It was almost like a cloud, this silence, skulking over their shoulders as it dashed back and forth between each member of the group as they tried to find something to say. But after a while, everyone just gave up trying to start conversation, too fixated with Ichigo to care much for small talk, or their lunches for that matter. Rukia herself was the only one actually taking any time to enjoy the meal she'd brought to school with her, courtesy of Urahara.

_I'm back all of five minutes and he gets me thrown into detention with him tomorrow._ She wanted to laugh at that. When Ichigo's brain had finally let him accept what was going on, his reaction had been rather hysterical to say the least. The new homeroom teacher, Shizumi-sensei - if she recalled correctly - looked about ready to tear her hair out, apparently a woman of little patience. As punishment for Ichigo disrupting the class he had apparently managed to double the length of a detention he already had and she was to join him for the first half, along with Keigo for an earlier offence, for being the source of the newest disruption.

Whilst a little over the top for a first time offence, which she really wasn't all that guilty of – it wasn't her fault if Ichigo was an idiot! – Rukia conceded it was completely worth it just to see her friend's reaction. But now, as she sat drinking her juice, she waited for Ichigo's real reaction. She'd even heard Uryû and Chad taking bets over how long it would take as they, much like Ichigo had, followed her up to the roof when the lunch bell had rung. _Shame I can't join in, I could've made some good money…_

But as the group endured the heavy silence pushing down on them, a ghost floated up through the roof to watch them_. Odd, what's a ghost doing around here?_ Usually ghosts tended to stick close to their place of death, and the few who didn't usually only left to follow someone around. Her gaze drifted away from Ichigo slightly, trying to gauge if either of her other companions recognised the ghost before them. And judging from their own mild surprise at the ghost's arrival, it was a good bet they didn't.

But why would this ghost be following Ichigo? _He can't even see spirits anymore: the report Urahara gave me confirmed as much…_ It didn't make much sense to the petite Shinigami. And things only got worse when the ghost started attempting to _talk_ to Ichigo. But the fact the former Visored walked straight through the babbling ghost, twice no less, clearly suggested his comments were falling on deaf ears. _That still doesn't explain why the ghost would follow Ichigo of all people around._

As the moments ticked by, she soon heard the tell-tale slurp that indicated the juice-box was almost empty_. Finished already? Did they suddenly decrease the amount of juice in these things in the time I've been away?_ Frowning, she pulled her gaze away from Ichigo and the ignorant ghost. Instead, she focused on her juice-box, swirling her straw around the bottom of the carton in an attempt to soak up every last drop the box had to offer.

Only for Ichigo to finally snap with a furious cry of: "Will you shut up already?" Everybody's eyes snapped back to the orange-haired young man as he glared at the ghost now hovering in front of him. Everyone gaped in shock, only to be further confused when Ichigo furiously rubbed at his eyes, before staring back at the same stop where the ghost still hovered in fright, blinking at a rather rapid pace. But, if the former Visored's bewildered look was anything to go by, all he saw was empty space.

Rukia could only watch on as the boy she'd once turned into a Shinigami turned his back to them, rubbing his forehead and muttering to himself about hearing things. _Just what exactly is going on with you, Ichigo…?_ But before she could dedicate any real thought to the matter, the awkward silence that had resumed after Ichigo's outburst was shattered.

"How long then, Uryû?" Yasutora Sado, affectionately referred to as Chad due to Ichigo's inability to pronounce his name, asked. Rukia was, admittedly, a little surprised it was he of all people who had finally broken the heavy silence, but said nothing of it. Chad was exactly as she remembered him, the silent giant of Mexican descent. He'd grown a little goatee since she had last seen him, but otherwise remained exactly the same, something Rukia was thankful for. Chad had always been the silent rock who supported his friends in their time of need, through thick and thin. Things just wouldn't be the same without him. He was one of a kind; irreplaceable, even.

"Just over four and half minutes," Ishida Uryû spoke from his spot leaning against the wall next to the door, eyes fixed on his watch. _Damn, that's roughly when I would have bet on_. Rukia thought, trying not to sigh dejectedly - she could have put that money towards the new Chappy the Rabbit plushie she so desperately wanted.

Uryû looked up from the face of his watch, the bespectacled Quincy archer meeting Chad's intense stare, hard blue eyes facing soft chocolate brown for the briefest of moments before the shorter teen nodded in defeat. Apparently Chad had won their bet over how long it would take Ichigo to snap and say something.

Ichigo could only glare at the Quincy as he turned back to face his friends, arms folded over his chest again. But instead of picking a fight with Uryû over the matter, he glanced over to face Rukia.

"Well?" he demanded, straight to the point as always.

As Rukia opened her mouth to reply, she was beaten to the punch by Uryû. "That's very specific, Kurosaki. That really narrows down the topic of conversation, doesn't it?" The Quincy spoke in a mocking tone, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"Shut it, Ishida. Nobody was talking to you!" came the predictable reply. _Some things never change… _Rukia thought with an exaggerated sigh, hanging her head in a poor attempt to hide her own amusement. The pair of them bickered like old men over a game of Shogi about the legality of move the other had made. The Quincy's brow merely dipped in annoyance as he made to come back with his own snappish retort. But he never got the chance.

"Maybe it's best with if we let Kuchiki-san explain the situation to us as she sees fit." Chad said, his voice calm as ever as he played referee between the pair. Ichigo made to retort with something or other, but thought better of it when he realised Chad probably had a point, so he settled for stuffing hands into his pockets with a begrudging nod of agreement. Ishida was left to fold his arms over his chest without a sign of protest.

"_Arigatõ_, Sado," Rukia smiled, inclining her head in thanks. Chad merely copied her gesture, before moving on to pulling out his own lunch as he and the others waited. Meanwhile Rukia cupped her chin in one hand, eyes half closed in thought.

_Where do I begin…?_ she wondered silently, not entirely sure how much she could tell them without going against her orders to keep Ichigo and his friends as uninvolved as possible. "I suppose the best place to start would be to let you know whilst I am indeed back, I am here on a mission on behalf of the Material World Corps after the Shinigami guardian stationed here requested assistance," she started, lapsing into the formal tones she was used to employing back in Soul Society when the occasion called for it. Her Kuchiki voice, Matsumoto called it. "It was decided that I would be the one to undergo the mission as I was the best choice; being capable of taking the mission coupled with my extensive knowledge of Karakura and its spiritually aware.

"Whilst my mission here has no set time limit I'm merely here until things have been taken care of." She carried on, rather indifferent. "I'm sorry, that's all I can really tell you. I can answer any questions you three might have as long as they do not pertain to my mission. It's been classified S-rank confidential by the Captain-Commander, and only the Captains and a handful of Lieutenants know anything about it."

"Material World Corps?" Uryû asked quizzically, trying not to scoff. Shinigami were so very lacking when it came to having creative names for their military branches.

For her part, Rukia merely nodded, _I figured that would be one of the things they'd be interested __in._ "Yes. I guess you could say the Captains took the whole ordeal with Aizen as a wake-up call. Combined with the new Central Forty Six, which is easier to work with than the last, there have been a lot of changes taking place within Soul Society to try an avoid giving anyone a reason to turn on Soul Society again. For instance: the conversion of a Division into the Material World Corps, which exists with the sole purpose of monitoring and protect the real world in mind is one of the larger changes. This frees up other Divisions for other important duties as the Material World is now taken care of by a single Division instead of fragments of all the Divisions."

"Sounds like you've been rather busy," Chad said with a thoughtful expression as he took a swig from his water bottle.

"I guess you could say that," Rukia nodded with a chuckle. "The Gotei Thirteen even managed to get direct control over the Kidõ Corps. The Captain-Commander put forth a bill to directly merge them with one of the Gotei Divisions, citing their lack of involvement in the war with the Arrancar as a major reason for why we should have had full control of them from the start.

"Captain-Commander Yamamoto also…" Rukia trailed off for a moment_. Should I really tell him about that? He does h__ave a right to know, but will it really make a difference?_ "…He also put forth a draft of an official apology to the Quincy people as a thank you for your assistance in the Winter War, Ishida."

The only indication that Uryû gave that he'd even heard her was the slight twitch of his right eyebrow. Rukia continued: "From what I understand, the extermination of the Quincy was not a decision made by the Captain-Commander, but rather a few individuals with the Gotei Thirteen who manipulated the situation to benefit themselves and disrupted peace talks to force open war between our people. Now, with a governing body that actually cooperates with us a little more than the last, Captain-Commander Yamamoto felt it was time to apologise."

"So he claims…" Uryû uttered under his breath, the sun reflecting off his glasses as he turned his gaze skyward, retreating into his own thoughts. _He really doesn't trust us,_ Rukia thought sadly. Not that she should be all that surprised. Her people had pretty much wiped his own off the face of the earth. No matter how good the reasoning, that wasn't something that could be simply swept under the rug with an apology and friendly handshake. "Thank you for informing me regardless, Kuchiki-san."

"Think nothing off it, Ishida. It's the least I can do." The Quincy archer just nodded absently, still staring at the cloudless sky above him. Her attention soon drifted back towards Ichigo, who had taken to leaning against the opposite fence, hands still stuffed into his pockets as he glared at a speck of dirt in the ground. "Ichigo?"

"Why?" he asked.

_Huh?_ she thought, unsure what he meant. _Is he referring to the Quincy apology?_ But when Ichigo finally looked at her, she could tell that wasn't it at all. He looked caught between utterly livid and visibly hurt. "Why can't we know why you're here? Why did you come back here, to school, if you could be here as little as a week when you're not even going to let us in? Let us help you! You think we'll let that all slide if you just distract us with what else is going on? Why won't you tell us the truth, Rukia?"

"It's not my decision," Rukia snapped back. Ichigo was acting like such a child, just because she wouldn't tell him what he wanted to know. "Yes, the decision to return here to the school was mine, because I wanted to see you all again – you're my _nakama_. But I was only allowed to do so on the condition I respect the lives you all have now and uphold regulation and keep you all as uninvolved as possible. Even if it was my decision to make I wouldn't tell you anything. You're human now, Ichigo, you're not part of the world I belong to anymore and I'm not going to go and place you back in it when you can't even see it, let along defend yourself in it. It'd be suicide for you, Ichigo. Now stop acting like a child and grow up: we can't always get what we want. You did. You got to be a normal human, now quite winning like a child and enjoy it!"

Rukia regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. The look Ichigo gave her was like she'd run him through with her Zanpakutõ with intent to kill. He looked so utterly betrayed and even slightly lost. She'd stepped over the line, she knew. _Urahara's report told you what he's been like since he lost his powers. Nice way to rub it in his face,_ baka_!_ But try as she might, she couldn't tear her eyes away from Ichigo until he reacted, until he did something so she could know exactly how angry at her he really was.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Ichigo sneered, pushing himself away from the fence, _Wonderful, __he's _really_ mad,_ Rukia thought sourly, but she bit her tongue. The last thing she needed to do right now was dump more full on the fire. "I am human; I don't have any special powers. Guess I don't belong in the 'ol superhero club anymore. Which I guess means I don't belong _here_."

Without another word he stormed off towards the door, wrenching it open and slamming it shut behind him as he left as Rukia called out; "Ichigo, get back here!" But when the echo of footsteps hammering against the stairs faded into the distance, she could only growl in frustration.

"It's okay," Chad spoke up, clambering to his feet, "he'll cool off by the end of the day. Just give him some space to clear his head and he'll be fine. He might like to think he hides it well but we can all see it, he's taken the loss of his powers pretty hard." Rukia could only nod weakly; accepting the hand Chad offered her as the bell rung off in the distance to signal the end of lunch. _Damn it Ichigo, I thought you of all people would understand I__ just want to protect those close to me…_

"You know what Kurosaki's like, Kuchiki-san," Uryû shook his head as he dragged her from her thought back into the real world, holding open the door for her and Chad as they walked over to him. "He was never one for patience, or tact for that matter. Like Sado said, give him an hour or two to cool off and he'll be talking to you like nothing happened. If he doesn't let me know and I'll beat some sense into him for you."

"_Arigatõ_, Ishida. But if anyone needs to beat some sense into him, I'll do it myself."

* * *

><p>Ichigo sighed in relief as the bell signalling the end of the day finally rang. Pushing his chair backwards, he clambered to his feet and grabbed his bag from the floor next to the chair, the sound of it lost among the clatter that arose as all the other students did the same. Placing his bag on his desk, he began to gather up his leftover belongings and blindly shoved them into his bag, too lost in his own thoughts to care about what anyone else was doing.<p>

_Dam__n heartburn,_ he cursed, wincing at the sharp pain which erupted his chest as he zipped up his bag. Acting on autopilot, he grabbed the sash of pain relief tables from the back pocket of his pants, quickly popping one into his mouth before chasing it down his throat with a swig of water from his rather bare bottle. _Why is this still bothering me…?_

It didn't make any sense: for some inexplicable reason, he'd been plagued by the oddest recurring pain in his chest - like heartburn, but ten times worse - for the past few weeks that came and went in phases steadily getting worse every time it returned. Whilst he himself was positive that it was just a really bad case of recurring heartburn, his friends weren't so convinced. Tatsuki in particular hadn't gotten off his damn case about the whole thing since she found out that the pain had been messing with his sleeping pattern, making him much more irritable than usual as a result. She kept insisting that he should talk his dad, but what could the old man do for him if the damn heartburn tablets seemed to do jack-shit in the first place?

It'd pass in time. Or at least, that's what he kept telling everyone else. And himself.

"Hey, Ichigo, are you okay?"

"Huh?" Ichigo turned to his right, only to find Rukia gazing up at him with a curious expression. "Yeah, fine. Just heartburn, is all," he stated bluntly. The strange wrinkle of Rukia's nose at his gruff response did not go unnoticed. _Great,_ he thought, rolling his eyes, _just what I need._ Another _person who won't get __off my case when I say I'm fine. Can't people just take my word for it? I know my own body, for crying out loud!_ What made it all the worse with Rukia was she thought she had the right to waltz right back into his life and instantly stick her nose into his business when it had nothing to do with her.

Whilst Chad had indeed been right and he'd cooled down pretty quickly after having stormed off during lunch, he was still pissed at Rukia for keeping him in the dark. _I know I'm normal now; I don't need Rukia__ of all people to remind me…_he thought bitterly. He'd just be sure that regardless of his powerless state Rukia would have trusted him enough tell him what was going on, apparently he'd been wrong.

"Are you sure? You don't look fine." She was frowning at him now, arms folded over her chest, school things lying forgotten across the surface of her desk. Ichigo just scowled, shooting the short Shinigami an annoyed look which clearly said: _I'm fine. Drop it._ He really wasn't in the mood to be pestered over some stupid heartburn or whatever it was that was bothering him. _I've got Tatsuki for that._

Scowling at his own thoughts, Ichigo threw his bag strap over his head. He wasn't really sure how to deal of Rukia being back in the first place, not to mention her cold shoulder at lunch. _She should trust me enough to tell me what's going on._ Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants, he made to walk out of the room and just go home and sleep for a while. But he couldn't hide the wince as a fresh burst of pain ignited in his chest, like someone was hammering a shard of ice through his heart at a snail's pace. _Stupid fuckin' chest pain making it hard to sleep…_ Good thing he had his back to Rukia. He really wasn't in the mood for her to pounce and use it to prove he wasn't as well as he claimed.

Reaching for the sliding door at the back of the classroom, Ichigo let out a bedraggled sigh, hanging his head. _I'm being such a child…_ he thought. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Rukia zipping up her own bag and getting ready to leave. "Oi, Rukia, you got a place to crash tonight?"

The petite Shinigami turned to face him and blinked once. Twice. Thrice. Mouth slightly agape the entire time, totally taken aback by his kind gesture. Her whole expression was almost laughable. It was like she hadn't seen the invitation coming, which was stupid. She was right. He might not be part of her world, but they were still friends: he wasn't stupid enough to throw that all away just because of something she wouldn't tell him. Hell, the old man still referred to Rukia as his third daughter. She was practically family as far as his father was concerned, and he'd never hear the end of it if he didn't ask Rukia to stay and his father found out.

As the seconds ticked by, Ichigo fixed Rukia with an impatient expression. It wasn't like he had _all_ day to waste waiting for her to respond. He did have things to do; like homework, trying not to murder his father and other stuff that regular high school kids did. _Fun…_ pulling his hands out of his pockets and folding his arms over his chest.

But as the moments flew by, he was surprised to see Rukia regain composure and shake her head. "Thank you for the offer, Ichigo, but I won't need to intrude on you or your family this time. The Material World Corps have branched out into real world estate and own an apartment or house in every major area which has a Shinigami guardian. Karakura is no exception. It's part of the new regime being instituted in the Gotei Thirteen,"

Ichigo grunted and shrugged indifferently, even if it was a little stiffer than usual. Whilst the rational part of his mind understood that Rukia was only back on a temporary basis and it was best not to get to attached again, given she could disappear at any moment when her mission was complete, he was still a little annoyed. Would she rather stay in some unlived-in apartment with a random Shinigami than come and stay in the mad house that was the Kurosaki Clinic? _Wait, that's a stupid question. I'd take the apartment over m__y place any day, too._ But that didn't stop the slight dip of his brow as it became increasingly tight.

"Ah, right," he said after a beat, nodding his head as Rukia gave him an apologetic smile. But as he made to turn away again, a new idea struck him. "Well, either way, you want to come to my place for dinner tonight? Karin and Yuzu missed you, and the old man will probably cry with joy when he finds out you're back."

"…Yeah, that sounds nice." Rukia nodded, shooting him a grateful smile. Though Ichigo himself could swear it was a borderline smirk. The mischievous twinkle in the Shinigami's violet eyes didn't help to put him at ease either. She quickly shouldered the strap of her bag and skipped over to join him, the pair walking out of the classroom and turning down the corridor towards the stairs together.

"You know, it's alright to actually admit _you_ missed me. I missed you."

Ichigo just snorted at Rukia's comment, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Stuffing his hands back into his pockets, the orange haired teen couldn't help but smirk at Rukia's annoyed expression.

"Yeah, a midget who kicks and berates me for no reason at all and practically throws a fit every time I state how crappy her drawings are. Because everyone would miss _that_." The next thing Ichigo knew, there was a sharp pain in the back of his left knee and he was staggering forward, tripping over his own feet and tumbling down half a flight of stairs to the landing below. Coming to a stop in a crumpled heap, the former Visored growled in irritation. This must have been karma's doing for him throwing his father down the stairs that morning.

Scrambling to his feet, the furious teen glared back up the stairs towards his assailant. "What the hell, Rukia? You could have killed me, you damn midget!" But his eyes widened in horror as he saw Rukia storm down the stairs after him at a mile a minute, brow twitching. Petite as she was, Rukia quickly grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt's collar and dragged him down so he was level with her own eyes. "Midget?" she repeated, her tone dangerously low. "Do you have any idea how much I've grown since the last time I saw you?" The ex-Shinigami Substitute winced at how loud his captor's voice suddenly became. Everyone left in school had probably heard her.

In response, Ichigo could only look her up and down. "…You grew?" he asked in slight disbelief. It sure didn't look like it to him, anyway. But the low hiss which may or may not have been his name, coupled with the throb of a vain in Rukia's temple was a sure sign she had indeed grown and he just hadn't noticed_. I don't know why she's so annoyed. She's always been a midget and always will be. What's a few more inches?_

But as he watched Rukia's fist draw back, the sound of knuckles tightening ringing in his ears, a cough cut across the pair. Both Ichigo and his attacker's gaze snapped to the side to find Arisawa Tatsuki watching them with rather obvious amusement twinkling in her light blue eyes. Her spiky raven-black hair had lengthened slightly in the last seventeen months, Rukia noticed, reaching just past her shoulders, and she herself was taller, but was otherwise unchanged.

"Please, don't mind me interrupting your lovers' reunion," Tatsuki said, unfolding her arms from across her chest and holding them up in mock surrender as the corners of her lips flicked upwards in a teasing smirk. She looked rather at ease, the sleeves of her blouse rolled up to her elbows and her tie undone around her neck. Her jacket was slung over her bag, the strap of which hung off her shoulder.

"What!" Ichigo demanded, head snapping back and forth between the two people who were probably his two best friends. Not that he'd ever tell them that. "You really think I'd date this deranged midget? You're insane, Tatsuki!" Anything further he might have had to say on the matter was cut off as Rukia's fist connected with his face, blasting him off his feet and into mid-air in an almost comical fashion as his body flopped back to the floor with a thud.

"Who do you think you're calling a deranged midget, you over grown delinquent of a strawberry?" Rukia demanded, hammering the heel of her foot into the back of Ichigo's head. _Doesn't she realise she's only proving my point…_Ichigo thought, still slightly dazed from the blow to the face. _She defiantly packs a better punch than she used to... _Groaning with relief as the pounding finally came to an end; the former Visored was allowed to have a few seconds to himself to regain his senses.

"I apologize for my behaviour, Arisawa-san," Rukia said calmly. "There was really no call for such an outburst."

_What?_ Ichigo thought, snapping upward, rubbing the back of his head in time to see Rukia come out of an apologetic bow. Glaring at her got him nowhere, so the orange-haired teen just rolled his eyes, muttering to himself over the whole situation. _Apology accepted Rukia, it wasn't like that didn't hurt or anything. Do you think I'm made of steel or something?_

Out of the corner of his eye, Ichigo could see Tatsuki shake her head in response to the apology. "No need to be so formal, Kuchiki. It's not like I wouldn't have done the same in your place."

"Wow, thanks, Tatsuki, I can feel the love hanging in the air…" Ichigo said, his face the very definition of deadpan. _My two best friends, ladi__es and gentlemen..._ he groused, folding his arms over his chest. The karate champion merely rolled her eyes, though he could still see the edges of her lips pointed upwards into a tiny smirk. "Something you need, or have you just come to torture me too?"

"Hi to you too, Ichigo," Tatsuki snorted, folding her own arms over her chest again as she and her childhood friend engaged in a glaring contest. Out of the corner of his eye, Ichigo could see Rukia's gaze flick back and forth between him and Tatsuki, one of her eyebrows arched with a hint of interest.

"Alright, fine," Ichigo sighed running a hand through his hair. His face softening, he spoke, "Hey, Tatsuki. Sorry for not showing up at lunch today like I said I would. Me, Chad and Ishida got side-tracked." Both Tatsuki and Rukia snorted at his comment, but said nothing. "You need my help with something?"

"I just wanted to check you could make our run tonight, seeing as you never bothered to show up at lunch to tell me anything." _Oh right, that. Forgot it __was Wednesday…_ Ichigo thought, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't miss the curious upward flick of Rukia's other eyebrow as it joined its fellow, her violet gaze fixed on him. He wasn't sure, but he was positive he saw the Shinigami's lip flicker upwards into a smirk for the briefest of seconds.

"Yeah, I'm good for tonight if you are. Usual time and place, yeah?" Ichigo said with shrug. It wasn't like he really had anything better to do with his time, _And a run to clear my head might be a good idea, a__ctually_. Tatsuki nodded. "Great. Now that we've sorted that out, I'm getting the hell outta here. I've had enough of this place for one day."

"Typical," Tatsuki muttered, rolling her eyes. Rukia just chuckled whilst Ichigo himself was left to groan in annoyance.

"Yeah, yeah, let's just go already," he muttered, finally walking away from Rukia and past Tatsuki and jogging down the stairs at a brisk pace. The two girls followed his lead, stepping into line next to one another as they walked down the stairs, a good few steps behind their much taller friend.

"So, Kuchiki, what's brought you back to Karakura? Any monsters to slay this time?" Tatsuki asked, trying to strike up conversation. Ichigo just snorted, trying not to laugh at Tatsuki's lack of tact as Rukia almost tripped over her own feet and tumbled down the stairs in surprise. _This should be interesting,_ the former Visored thought, chancing a glance over his shoulder in time to see the petite Shinigami straighten up, schooling her surprised features.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're-" Rukia began, only for Ichigo to cut across her.

"Don't feed her any bullshit, Rukia," he warned. "She knows everything." He was pretty sure he heard Rukia mutter "_Wonderful_" as he reached the bottom of the steps, turning around to see her glaring at him with folded arms. Ichigo just rolled his eyes, not the least bit concerned by her reaction. "Don't give me that look. It's my life, I can tell who I want what I want."

"I understand that, Ichigo, but that doesn't give you a right to tell Arisawa-san what _I_ am," Rukia snapped, her expression darkening. Whilst Ichigo had a point – he did have a right to tell Tatsuki things – there was nevertheless a limit to what he should and shouldn't tell her, and in her opinion, what she was should have been in the 'shouldn't' category.

"Hey, I am standing right here, y'know?" Tatsuki butted into the conversation, her glare flicking back and forth between the two of them. "And for the record, I'd already worked out you weren't human on my own. Ichigo just filled in the blanks for me." Ichigo couldn't hide his smirk as he saw Rukia caught speechless. He'd suspected the Shinigami had worked out that Tatsuki probably knew about her involvement with the strange goings-on from a year and half ago, but to have in confirmed was another thing.

"Okay." Rukia nodded after a beat, closing her eyes as she sighed to herself. "Forgive me, but I'm afraid I'm not permitted to talk to you about why I've returned to Karakura. I'm not even allowed to tell Ichigo." Ichigo scoffed in acknowledgment, still annoyed that Rukia was keeping him out of the loop as to why exactly she was back. "I hope you can understand."

"Sure, why not?" said Tatsuki without emotion. "I'm used to living in the dark at this point, anyway." Though she didn't even look at him, Ichigo cringed inwardly at her barb. Who else would it have been aimed at? Shaking his head, he turned around and started walking again, trying to hide the guilty expression that was showing through the tiniest cracks in his stony mask. With Rukia's return and her reluctance to tell him what was going on, the half answers and the occasional shrug of her shoulders, coupled with her cold indifference at lunch, he finally understood how it was to stand in the shoes Tatsuki had worn all those months ago.

_God, this sucks. I can't believe I put her through that…_ What annoyed him even more was he was cracking after a mere few hours of unknowing frustration whilst Tatsuki had lasted months. _I'm such an ass_. Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants, he never really heard either of the girls take off after him, calling his name, too lost in his own thoughts.

"Oi, _baka_," Tatsuki finally snapped him from his musings as they turned into the entrance hall, giving him a slight shove to get his attention. He gave her a questioning glance, to which she rolled her eyes in response. "You were spacing out." she explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Doesn't mean you get to shove me!" Ichigo griped his permanent frown deepening as he shoved Tatsuki back. But it was a rather half-hearted effort, almost playful. But Tatsuki took the response as a challenge and the pair quickly became engrossed in a light-hearted shoving contest as they walked down the entrance hall, Rukia trying not to laugh in amusement behind them as they went. "Something funny, Rukia?" Ichigo asked sardonically.

"Nope, I just didn't get the memo that both of you were reverting back to six year olds, is all." _Hardy har-har…_ Ichigo thought, but he let the barb slide. He'd argued with her enough for her first day back. He could save his own insult for later. That and a familiar figure was looming ahead of them, engrossed in conversation with another classmate.

"Hey, Chad! What's going on?" Ichigo called out, nodding in greeting as the trio pulled up next to Chad and the other teen.

The person Chad was talking to was probably only an inch or two taller than Ichigo himself, with short, yet rather shaggy blond hair that seemed to shoot off in every direction, a few stands hanging down over his forehead. It gave him the unflattering appearance of someone who had just gotten out of bed. The fact that his grey Karakura High uniform was rather rumpled and creased didn't help, though he had disregarded the white shirt beneath the jacket in favour of a black, red and white striped t-shirt. Much like Ichigo himself did most of the time during the spring and summer months. Despite the fact that he'd seen the kid in the hallway or in the assembly hall once or twice before, usually talking to either Chad or somebody else, he couldn't match a name to his face_. Then again, if he's hanging out with Chad of all people, he can't be anyone bad._

"Hey, guys," Chad said by way of greeting, returning Ichigo's nod with a small dip of his own head. "This is Marukami Tetsuo. He's a friend of mine from one of the other senior classes. Tetsuo, this is Kurosaki Ichigo, Arisawa Tatsuki and Kuchiki Rukia who transferred back here today after moving anyway due to family issues." Ichigo nearly snorted, trying not to roll his eyes at Chad's blatant lie. Though he had to admit, for an on-the-spot cover up, it wasn't half bad. _At least it's believable._ Ichigo couldn't help but notice that Marukami's cerulean-coloured eyes seemed to flash in recognition at his and Rukia's names, his expression a somewhat strange cross between awed and surprised. _Odd…_the former Visored thought, as his scowl reappeared, as prominent as ever.

"Hey," Tetsuo said, the recognition Ichigo had seen flash across the guy's face completely gone as soon as it had come. Instead it was replaced by a large, goofy grin that seemed to stretch from ear-to-ear as he stuck out his hand for the new arrivals to shake. "Sado's been kind enough to tell me about all of you. I've honestly wanted to meet you all for a while!"

"Yeah, sure," Ichigo shrugged after briefly shaking Tetsuo's hand. _What's with this guy? Must just be one of those naturally upbeat goofballs._ He sure seemed like it.

"Pleasure to meet you, Marukami-san," Rukia said, nodding from her spot next to him and shaking his hand in turn.

"Please, call me Tetsuo," the boy replied. "Marukami-san just seems way too formal for me. I'm really not all that important." He laughed, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. _Yep, definitely a goofball,_ Ichigo thought, suppressing an eye-roll. "Well it was nice meeting you all, but I've really got to get going. My band has practise in half an hour and I can't really afford to be late again. Hope you can make it on Friday, Sado!" With a wave, the blond teen turned around on his heel and was off, jogging towards the double doors at the end of the corridor.

"What was that about?" Ichigo asked, turning to Chad. The gentle giant shrugged in response, handing him a flyer.

"Tetsuo's band have their first live performance on Friday night, playing at this new students' club that's opening up," Chad explained. "He invited me along to check the place out. He knows the owner so he just told me to tell them Marukami sent me and they'd let me in for free."

"Seriously…? That's pretty sweet," Tatsuki said, throwing an arm onto Ichigo's shoulder as she leaned over and attempted to read the flyer. The numbers _1336_ were branded across the top half of the flyer, stylized in some strange font that was coloured white, blue and red. "One Thousand Three Hundred and Thirty-Six? Seems like an odd name for a club."

"I think it's pronounced as One-Three-Three-Six, or at least that's how Tetsuo said it." Chad watched on as Rukia stood on the tips of her toes in an attempt to see, whilst Ichigo glared at Tatsuki, who was still using his shoulder as a leaning post. "I was going to ask you guys if you wanted to come with me on Friday. It could be fun."

"Us_…_? _In a club_? That just seems weird," Ichigo put in, frowning. He wasn't sure a club was the kind of place he'd hang out in. Looking back to the flyer, he scanned it for more information, "Classic rock and roll…open from nine 'til one…seriously?" He looked up again, his expression bordering on disbelief.

"Ah c'mon, Ichigo, get the stick outta your ass. We can invite 'Hime, Ishida and the dynamic duo and it could be fun. And you'll come too, right, Kuchiki?" Rukia blinked in surprise at Tatsuki's prompt. She was back in Karakura for a mission, not to have fun and lounge about with Ichigo and her other friends. But Tatsuki continued: "It could be a sorta 'welcome back, Karakura' party. We could all do with blowing off some steam. What's one night?"

Tatsuki did have a point, Rukia reflected: one night of fun at a students' club to catch up with all her friends couldn't hurt, could it? Rukia's brow furrowed and she phrased her next reply hesitantly. "…I don't see why not, but I reserve the right to back out should something important come up."

Tatsuki and Chad both nodded their agreement; it seemed fair. Not to mention, if something did come up whilst they were at _1336_ then at least Chad himself, along with Ishida and Orihime, would be able to lend her some assistance.

"Well, Ichigo?" Tatsuki gave the orange-haired boy a stare that implied she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

Ichigo knew that arguing was going to get him nowhere. He contented himself with sighing in resignation and returning Tatsuki's stare with interest. "…Alright, fine!" he mumbled in defeat. "It doesn't look like I've got much of a choice in the matter, but no way in hell am I dancing or any crap like that. You can forget it." He shook his head. He refused point blank to allow himself look like an even bigger idiot by being made to dance. "You mind if I keep this, Chad?" he added as an afterthought, holding up the flyer. _The old man will laugh himself hoarse at this one…_

"Sure thing, Ichigo," Chad replied.

"Cheers. Now, let's get outta here and actually go do something worthwhile." Ichigo said as tucked the flyer into his back pocket for the time being.

The foursome exited the school, striking up casual conversation on the way home. They all slowly parted ways over the course of the journey: Tatsuki heading off home to help out at her parents' convenience store and Chad headed to work. Eventually, only Ichigo and Rukia remained. What was left of their journey towards the Kurosaki home together was spent in companionable silence.

"Ready for this?" Ichigo asked after a while, finally coming to a stop in front of the Kurosaki Clinic and home, Rukia standing at his side. She merely chuckled and nodded her head, a genuine smile spreading across her lips at the thought of seeing the entire Kurosaki bunch again - even their insane excuse for a father. "Alright, but when you realise you're in too deep again, don't-"

Before Ichigo could finish, the front door flew open, a blur of white, black and dozens of unimaginable flashy colours came flying out of the doorway, followed by a loud cry of: "Rukia-chan, my beloved third daughter, you have returned to your daddy at long last!"

_Here we go again…_ Ichigo thought, but he couldn't hide the slight smile that tugged at his lips as he saw Rukia get scooped up into a giant bear hug by his hysterical father, tears cascading down the man's cheeks as he shrieked about how much he had missed his 'third daughter'. A poor Rukia was left completely helpless, caught off guard in the hug, only able to smile awkwardly as the life was crushed out of her by Isshin.

_I tried to warn her,_ the former Visored thought, shaking his head as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Rukia had finally been released by his father, only for him to grab her arm and literally drag her into the house, calling out to Yuzu and Karin to come and meet their guest. Rukia's expression was horrified, silently begging Ichigo to save her, but he just stood there and smirked. Isshin was her problem now, much to Ichigo's relief.

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><p><em>And we're back for chapter number two! Not the most exciting chapter in the world by any means, and though I enjoyed writing it I feel I could have done a better job in places but it serves its purpose in reintroducing a good few characters and establishing a few things that will be expanded upon, some very soon, whilst others will take longer to come to light. Aside from the quick reminder that I love all reviewers longtime, <em>_I'll see you folks on March tenth with _Monsters Wear Black, _which promises to hopefully be a little more interesting with some minor action and all__. _

_Until then, TTFN~!_


	4. Monsters Wear Black

**I have no excuses, other than that collage is not fun, and laziness is an utter bitch. That said, summer is finally here and in the words of Arnold himself: I'm back.**

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><p>…<strong>And Justice for All<strong>

**Act I - Enter the Unforgiven**

**Chapter III **– _Monsters Wear Black_

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><p><strong>Wednesday, 20<strong>**th**** of April**

The sound of sneakers thundering against the pavement was the only sound to be heard as Ichigo and Tatsuki jogged down an otherwise deserted street in Karakura Town, the scenery blurring past them as they took their usual route around the Minamikawase distract.

Above them, the purples and blues now clashed with the dying orange and yellows for control of the sky, swirling together like some great mess of watery paint that had been knocked over and was running together, mixing into the oddest, yet most beautiful abstract piece of art a person could conjure. Off in the distance a few gray clouds could be seen slouching in Karakura's direction at what seemed to be an elderly turtle's pace.

Twisting around another corner, Tatsuki noticed that Ichigo was ahead of her, but he still seemed to be going at the pace he usually kept so she could keep up with his longer strides. So why was he almost a good ten yards in front of her? Shaking it her head, she pushed the thought aside. She was just a little tired, that was all. It wasn't her fault the store had been hectic that afternoon when she'd gotten home and her parents needed her help running things.

_But that still doesn't explain why I'm so warn out…! It's not like this is the first time I've gone for a run after helping out at the store on a busy day! _And she was far from out of shape, so why was she getting a stitch in her side, her breathing a little more ragged than it should be? Panting as she jogged down a set of steps after Ichigo, she ground to a halt when she hit the bottom, doubling over and resting her elbows on her knees, her bangs sticking to her face.

"Hey, Tatsuki, you alright?" Ichigo's voice echoed from down the street. He seemed to have pulled even further ahead of her, not having realised she was lagging behind as badly as she was. _The hell is wrong with me…? _she thought, still staring at the pavement as she tried to steady herself, the stitch in her side still burning.

"Thanks," she murmured, seeing a water bottle suddenly hovering in front of her face. With a grateful nod of her head, she lifted one hand and took the bottle from Ichigo, straightening up in time to take a swig of its contents. Despite the fact she did feel a little better for the drink of water, the world was still a little fuzzy and her head felt rather lighter than it should have.

"Shit, Tatsuki, you look like hell," Ichigo murmured, frowning as she handed him his bottle back.

"You sure know how to woo the ladies, Ichigo," Tatsuki replied with a roll of her eyes. Not that she would admit she really didn't feel a hundred percent, not even to herself. Whatever it was, she put it down to the searing ache in her ribs and her stiff knees. She'd be fine in a few minutes. She just needed to catch her breath and let the dizziness pass. A minute or two and she'd be raring to go again.

"No, I'm serious, Tatsuki, you _really_ don't look well. Maybe we should call it a night and go home, I mean, we've only been out about ten minutes. It shouldn't take us long to get home."

_Ten minutes? _Tatsuki's eyes widened in horror, and sure enough, when she checked the tacky sports watch on her left wrist, she found Ichigo was right. They really had only been running for ten minutes…!

"I'm fine," she said, taking a deep breath and nodding. They'd always completed their running route they'd worked out the previous year when Tatsuki had guilt tripped Ichigo into helping her train for various tournaments. Eventually though it had ended up just carrying on even when the season ended, without either of them even talking about it. It was one of the things that had helped to bring them together after she put his head through a window. For almost a year, sun, rain or snow they'd made this run on a Wednesday night and she sure as hell was not going to let a perfect record crumble now over some damn pain in her side and dizziness.

"C'mon, you scared I'll beat you even like this?" she taunted, giving Ichigo a soft jab to the shoulder before jogging on ahead of him, leaving him to stand there and watch her with a dumb expression on his face. But she found he quickly shook it off and was soon jogging right next to her, his face grim.

"Oh, lighten up, will ya, you sour faced strawberry?" she forced out, trying to not wince as the stitch in her side burned even more terribly than before. _I'm fine, I can do this. I almost won a tournament with a broken arm, didn't I? This is nothing._ Running with a stitch should have been a damn cake walk compared to that. So why was it _so _damn hard?

"Tatsuki," Ichigo began again, still easily keeping pace next to her. He only seemed to be moving at a brisk walk as well. _This is humiliating. _"We should stop. You really don't look well and if you push it–" She'd been about to respond with a sneering "Yes, mother," but before she got the chance to, some punk in a hoodie and sweats barged his way between them. The guy almost sent her flying in her weakened and surprised state. Ichigo just stepped back and glared after him. "Ass," she heard him mutter.

"Oi, come back here!" The roar of another voice tore through the air. Another guy appeared seemingly out of nowhere, running through the gap the first moron had left. "Gimme my bag back, asshole!"

Tatsuki looked up at Ichigo, who shrugged, murmuring a "Be right back." He was off without another word. She let out a frustrated sigh.

"Like hell he can just run off and play hero whilst leaving me here," Tatsuki said, taking a deep breath before pushing everything to the back of her mind and taking off after Ichigo. To her surprise, she easily outran the guy trying to get his bag back, making good distance given the continued pain in her side and the fact that everything just seemed to be blurring together. She honestly didn't know what possessed her to do it in the first place, but after running after Ichigo, all that currently mattered was helping him catch the punk.

Ichigo made it to the thief well before she did, latching onto his shoulder and spinning him around. He almost sent his opponent flailing as the hoodlum tried to maintain his balance. But it was all for naught when the orange- haired youth drove his fist into the guy's face, sending him sprawling to the pavement as the bag tumbled out of reach. Tatsuki had all but caught up to the pair of brawlers, hearing the faint clicking sound of a switchblade being drawn. But Ichigo, being Ichigo, didn't even bat an eye as he caught the guy's oncoming lunge with the knife, the blade narrowly miss taking away a few of his fingers.

And in that instant, Tatsuki herself struck, twisting her body so as to ram her shoulder into the guy's chin. With the momentum from her run-up, she was able to knock the guy off his feet again and send him careering backwards with a dumbfounded look on his face. Despite being sweaty, exhausted – and a good half a foot shorter and probably at least thirty pounds lighter than the punk to boot – she smirked when considering how easily she'd steamrolled him. And on instinct, as though anticipating his next attempt at defending himself, she twisted into a swift roundhouse, her heel catching the guy in the side of his face that Ichigo had spared.

The punk crashed to the ground with a moan, his knife falling from his grip as he clutched at this battered face. _They always think they're so tough too… _Bending down, she grabbed the blade. _I'll dump this somewhere some little kid isn't going to find it, _she decided as she stuffed it into her back pocket. Chancing one last glance at the groaning punk, she wanted to snort: yet another punk that ran around with a weapon because they were too scared to fight fair and needed to pull something dirty to win. They were scum. She hated them all.

Turning around, she spotted Ichigo scoping up the stolen bag. He gave her a small nod of thanks for her help, but she could tell he didn't need it, nor did he approve, given her supposedly terrible state of health. _I'm fine, _she mouthed back at him with a slight glare. She could pull that 'It's my body, I know best' crap too, if she wanted! But her friend said nothing. He just let his slight scowl slip into something akin to worry as she doubled over to catch her breath, unable to help herself.

_Damn, if I wasn't beat before, I am now. What the heck is wrong with me…? _Behind her, the punk clambered to his feet, but when Ichigo stepped into position next to her, he clearly thought better of any retribution he had been thinking on achieving. As Ichigo's sneakers crashed against the pavement, the punk ran off like some frightened dog. Ichigo bent down so he and Tatsuki were at eye level, offering his water bottle once more.

"Thanks," she muttered, taking the refreshment and doing her best to avoid Ichigo's eye. It was clear their run was over for the night, whether she agreed with the idea or not.

"Hey, thanks a lot!" A voice ahead snapped her out of her thoughts, and Tatsuki looked up to find that the guy whose bag had been stolen was jogging up to them. "You have no idea how much this means, guys!" He was taller than Ichigo, dressed in a leather jacket with a fur collar and baggy black pants and a white tank.

_That can't be right… _she thought, brow creasing. He was packing more muscle than Ichigo, for crying out loud! A person didn't get that kind of body without a lot of training and effort. No way should she have been able to outrun him feeling like she did – heck, even if she felt a hundred percent she probably couldn't have done it. How the hell did that stupid-ass street punk snatch something from this guy and get so far ahead? Shouldn't he have caught the loser easily?

"Yeah, don't mention it," said Ichigo as he handed the man his bag. She could tell from the edge in his voice that he was having similar thoughts. "Just do us afavour and don't tell anyone about this – we could get into a lot of trouble for fighting." Eyebrows, Tatsuki felt it was a fitting name given they were his most noticeable feature – and it had been a tossup between that or Mullet-Man and the bastard Aizen already had dibs on that– just nodded repeatedly in understanding.

"Sure, man, but you sure I can't get you both some ramen or something as a thank you? I know this really great place not–"

At that moment, as Ichigo made to cut him off with a swift refusal, Tatsuki felt her stomach lurch. _Uh-oh... _Her eyes widened, and next thing she knew, she was on her knees, emptying her dinner all over the street.

"Oh man, that's nasty!" Eyebrows exclaimed, taking a step back.

"Tatsuki!" Ichigo's voice was echoing in her ears as the second wave came stronger than the first. Whatever was left in her stomach decided it, too, was going to help decorate the street. _Damn it…_

"I told you that you didn't look too great." Ichigo's murmur was much softer on her ears this time, which was good, as they were ringing slightly for some bizarre reason. She just flipped him the bird, to which he chuckled back dryly.

"Yo, man, you need a hand or something there?" Eyebrows called out, though he suddenly seemed distant. Tatsuki just wobbled slightly as Ichigo helped her back onto her feet. A moment later, her head was lolling over Ichigo's shoulder as he bent down and hoisted her onto his back, tucking his arms under her legs to make sure he had a firm grip of her. _What's he playing at…?_she thought groggily. She could feel his head shake in a negative response to Eyebrows.

"I'm taking you back to the clinic." Ichigo's voice left no room for argument on her part, but even if she'd wanted to, Tatsuki honestly couldn't string a few thoughts together, let alone an argument. The last thing she remembered was saying "Sounds fun" before the world went blank.

* * *

><p>Ginjõ Kũgõ chuckled to himself, slinging his bag over his shoulder as watched Kurosaki's retreating back slowly move further down the street, carrying his friend – Tatsuki if he heard right. <em>How very interesting… <em>he mused with a slight smirk. _The girl's something else… __she's unlike any ordinary human of her age and build should be, even if she was influenced by Kurosaki's Reiatsu. It would seem she's more than just Kurosaki's friend._

"Enjoying the view?" an airy voice quipped in a mockingly polite tone from somewhere out of sight. Sighing, Ginjõ cast a glance over his shoulder, only to find a man behind him blocking his path. He was tall, even taller than Ginjõ himself – an impressive feat – with dark wavy hair and a noticeable scar marring his otherwise rather handsome features. He was the type who could turn even the coldest of women to putty with a smoldering look in his deep dark eyes. Dressed in his favouritewhite, long-sleeved collared shirt, well-pressed dark pants held up by a pair of matching suspenders, dark Italian shoes and a matching pin-striped suit jacket completing the look, he was the very image of high-end fashion.

"Tsukishima…" Ginjõ said, his expression slightly sour at the sight of his fellow. The other's lips curled upwards into a gentle yet twisted smile, his dark eyes shining with amusement. Shaking his head, Ginjõ turned on his heel and began walking down the street in the opposite direction from Kurosaki and his friend, his companion falling into step next to him without any effort. Both made sure to avoid the puddle of vomit the girl had left behind her.

"Ginjõ," Tsukishima replied, his little smile still pulling at the corners of his lips and lighting up his pale face. Ginjõ was honestly a little unnerved. Outwardly, the man was as polite as they came, but what lay beneath was another story altogether. "I see another unexpected complication has arisen." There was a slight grunt of acknowledgement before Tsukishima continued speaking: "There seem to a lot of those going and popping up lately: the strange Reiatsu all over town, the complete lack of any Hollow activity within the area, Shinigami running around like everyday humans and now this _girl_. She's not like the other humans whom Kurosaki influenced with his wild Reiatsu… nor is she like _us_. It would seem as though we've stumbled across something else entirely… something new."

Ginjõ held his tongue, mulling over what Tsukishima had had to say on the matter. The other man had a point. There was clearly a lot more going on than they knew about. Not that he hadn't realised as much already. But to have someone else confirm his suspicions made the situation that much more real. _Or perhaps we've not stumbled across som__e__thing new but very _old _instead__… _He had a very good idea what that girl was, and she could prove troublesome if left alone. "The next few days should be interesting, to say the least," he said finally, choosing his words with utmost care. "If we're careful in how we go about things, we can use the situation with Kurosaki's friend to our advantage. We can't let her run unchecked, either. But in the long run, this might actually work out much better for us than what we originally had in mind."

"I thought you might say as much," Tsukishima mused aloud as he nodded his agreement with his partner's analysis of the situation. Humming to himself, the taller man pulled out a book from the pocket of his jacket, flicking it open to where he had left his bookmark and casting his gaze over the pages. Ginjõ could only snort; his friend always had his nose buried in some book or another. He really needed another hobby besides reading. Only Yukio was worse in the one-track mind department. "You do realise this means we'll have to alter our plans for the boy, right?"

"I _never _would have guessed…"

"Business as usual, then." The retort got a dry laugh from Ginjõ. His sarcasm had led his straight into that one, he would concede that much. Grinding to a halt, he turned to look back down the street, Ichigo and his friend having long since disappeared from sight in the time it had taken himself and Tsukishima to walk to the opposite end. Frowning, he made his decision as he turned around again. There was something else going on in Karakura, something much bigger than he'd expected – he and Xcution needed to do their part and get out of dodge before the storm really hit. This wasn't their fight. That said, it could serve as an excellent steppingstone for setting up their own when the time was right.

"I don't know about you," Ginjõ began as the corners of his lips flicked upwards into a smirk, "but I think it's about time we stopped playing around. We need to start up our game before we get out played, wouldn't you agree, Tsukishima?" Tsukishima looked up from his book to meet Ginjõ's gaze, one eyebrow raised slightly. But after a moment, he nodded his own agreement. _Yep, the next few days are definitely going to be interesting._

If he'd had even the slightest idea of what was coming in the near future, he'd have regretted ever thinking those words.

* * *

><p>"Well ain't that just great…" Ichigo cursed under his breath, having jogged back up the street he and Tatsuki had run down after the thief, only to find that in their haste to catch the guy they'd accidently knocked over a vase of flowers, as well as a few other tributes that had been laid there in memory of a young boy who had been killed in a hit-and-run a few weeks previously.<p>

Making sure he had a firm grip of Tatsuki, he bent down slowly so as not to disturb her. Reaching out with one hand, he righted the small glass vase, placing the individual flowers back in one at a time. Part of him couldn't help but smile at the familiarity of the entire situation. _I did this for that little girl on the day it all really began, didn't I…?_

"I'll bring you some fresh flowers tomorrow if I can," he murmured, "Rest easy, kid," he added, closing his eyes as he paid a moment's respect to the poor kid. It really wasn't fair that it always seemed to be the little kids who were the ones who got caught up in these stupid-ass accidents that could just be avoided by people realising they'd reached their limit at the bar.

"Thanks mister, that's real nice of you!"

Ichigo's head snapped around, staggering upwards and stumbling back a few passes. A young boy had appeared next to him, staring at the tributes. "That was really cool how you two took down that bad guy!" the boy chirped, turning to look at Ichigo with a large grin. He laughed in amusement at Ichigo's own expression. "I mean, that guy just charges past you with the bag and then you're like _WHAM_! Great Justice is here!" The boy rattled off like he was on a sugar rush, going a hundred miles an hour and punching the air in front of him as he boxed against an invisible opponent.

"Cheers, kid. But what are you doing out so late, anyways?" Ichigo frowned. Whilst he wouldn't deny to himself that the kid's enthusiasm about his skill at dispatching the punk was a nice little boost to his ego, he couldn't help but find it odd that a boy who didn't look older than thirteen was out this late without supervision of some sorts. _Maybe he lives on this street or something_, he reasoned with himself. He tried to adjust his grip on Tatsuki as he looked around to see if anyone was looking for the kid, but the street was deserted.

As he turned around to face his admirer properly, he found himself almost staggering back in shock. He could see through the damn kid! And there was a broken chain dangling from the boy's chest. _Holy shit…! _But – but this was impossible! _The kid's a damn ghost. But…! But…! _He knew his own face was slack with shock; the colour had probably vanished, too.

The kid's laughter dragged him out of his thoughts. "You're funny, mister!" The kid was still beaming. His body had faded, almost completely gone now, but he was still there.

And that's when it clicked, as the boy slowly started to become more visible again. _The voices in my head! I wasn't going insane at all. They were ghosts talkin' to everyone else!_

"I, uh, thanks…?" he forced out, trying not to freak out as he realised that something very strange was going on with him if he was seeing this kid again, let alone hear him and who knew how many other different ghosts over the past few days.

"No problem, mister!" Had he still not been in utter shock, Ichigo might have taken a moment to roll his eyes at the boy's limitless enthusiasm. Even in death, nothing damped this kid's mood, did it? "I'll see you tomorrow when you bring new flowers, right, mister? You can teach me how to throw a punch like that so I can defend myself from the monster in black!" He could only nod at the request, not really paying attention as the boy's face light up with another smile. "It's getting dark, mister. You should get inside before the monster in black comes out!"

_Wait, huh? _"Monster in black…?"

"Yeah," the boy's face twisted into what he probably thought was a scary expression and hunching his shoulders and trying to make claw-like hands as he stomped around on the spot. "He wears this big ol' tattered black robe and has _really _skinny arms and legs but massive pointy claws and chains hanging off him with a funny mask! He's been sneaking around the neighborhood for a while now. He does mean_… stuff _to the other ghosts he finds. It's scary, _r__e__al _scary. Like something outta a horror movie! I… I try not to listen, but no matter how hard I try I can't block out the screams most nights."

Ichigo could only stand there and stare own in shocked awe, still trying to string three words together as the boy's face suddenly saddened. The boy was getting shifty, casting nervous glances over his shoulder, rubbing one of his arms to distract himself. "…I should probably go. The monster is usually out by now. Stay safe, mister, I'll see you tomorrow. Hope your _girlfriend_," -the fake look of disgust the boy made at the word did not go unnoticed, either- "gets better too!" And with a quick, forced wave and a smile that didn't reach his eyes, the boy was off, fading into nothingness.

_The hell just happened…? _Ichigo thought, blinking at the now empty space where the little ghost boy had once stood talking to him as though nothing was wrong in the world. But all he could think of saying was: "She's not my girlfriend, damn it!" Groaning, Ichigo hung his head; _Talk about going through the motions… _though he'd seen the fear in the kid's eye, he hadn't been kidding about the so-called monster in black. _It must be a nasty Hollow running around town._

With that thought in mind, he turned again and started sprinting back towards the Kurosaki clinic. But as he pumped his legs as fast as he could whilst trying not to disturb Tatsuki, Ichigo had to wonder just what kind of Hollow could be causing enough ruckus to get the attention of the Gotei Thirteen and have Rukia sent in to deal with it – if that was even why she was back. _Maybe it's not exactly a Hollow, might be an Arrancar or something. _That would have made more sense in the long run, but he'd still never heard of Arrancar running around in a black uniform. Uryû and Chad, on the times they'd talk about a straggling Arrancar, they'd still either be dolled up in one of Aizen's old uniforms or covering themselves in old rags. He'd never heard mention of one in black robes before.

_Maybe it's not an Arrancar either-_

The moment he rounded the corner and skidded onto the street the Kurosaki clinic was located, he came face-to-face with this monster in black personally. Or rather, he was down one end of the street whilst it sat at the other, watching him intently.

The kid's description really hadn't done the thing justice. It was a hulking bulk of a creature, easily large enough to have at least a foot on _Chad_, with broader shoulders that seemed hunched around its head. It was cloaked in a large black robe held together by clips running up the front, which seemed to be worn over some sort of padded jumpsuit-like thing. It watched him from behind a large ellipse-shaped mask that seemed to lack any real eyeholes, though it was coloured half in white and half in black, with a the bottom of the mask cracked with jagged tooth-like points. Its arms were skinny, with its massive shoulders and bear-sized body creating an almost comical effect. Its legs weren't any better, large shackles clamped around both wrists and ankles, the broken chains dragging behind the thing on the ground.

_Defiantly not a Hollow, or an Arrancar for that matter…_he thought, shifting nervously, eyes darting between whatever was watching him and the front doors of the Kurosaki Clinic. Something that big shouldn't be too quick, but he knew from experience that large Hollows did not make for slow Hollows.

And then, with a rumbling chuckle and large _snap_-like sound and flicker of black material, it vanished to who knew where.

_What was that thing…?_ He didn't know, but he would bet his newly rediscovered ability to see the dearly departed that whatever it was, it was the reason as to why Rukia was back in town. In his daze of thought, he hadn't heard someone calling his name, and was only snapped out of it when his father appeared in front of him.

"What on earth happened to Tatsuki? She looks awful!" the bearded man declared, gesturing to the pale and sweaty girl on his son's back. She wasn't far from being passable as a zombie.

"Pops?" His father just looked at him as though he was stupid. Sighing, Ichigo nodded his head telling his father to lead the way into the clinic, stating that he would explain inside. He hurried after his old man – he honestly didn't know what that thing had been, he had no clue how he was able to see that kid earlier, and whilst he wanted answers, they could all wait.

What he needed to do right now was make sure Tatsuki was okay. But as he followed his father, something stirred in the pit of his stomach. That laugh had sounded awfully familiar…

* * *

><p><strong>There's chapter three, short, yes but it's here so that's something, yeah? Chapter four will be here the same time next week, provided life doesn't throw me or my beta any curve balls that is. Hope you all enjoyed this little installment however and I appreciate any feedback you take the time to give me. Apart from that, don't forget to be awesome dear readers and I'll catch you on the flip side.<strong>


	5. Friends will be Friends

…**And Justice for All**

**Act I - Enter the Unforgiven**

**Chapter IV **– _Friends will be Friends_

* * *

><p><strong>Wednesday, 20<strong>**th**** of April**

Tatsuki could probably count the amount of times she'd felt more stupid in her entire life with one hand. Before her, Ichigo's father stood in his lab coat, stethoscope hanging around his neck as he diligently jotted down some notes on his clipboard, Ichigo rattling off his account of exactly what had happened from his spot in the seat next to her bed. But what made it all the worse was that he was talking like she wasn't even in the room, whilst she was forced to sit in silence. A thermometer had been stuffed between her lips a moment prior, and she was dressed in nothing but a hospital gown she'd been forced to put on over her underwear. Yuzu had kindly offered to clean her dirty and vomit-covered sweats when she'd been given a few minutes to clean herself up.

Stupid Goat-chin-Isshin and his demands to do a full checkup; it wasn't like she was dying, for crying out loud! All she'd done was thrown up! But then again, for her that _was _rather odd in and of itself. Still, Isshin was taking this to the extremes when it came to being certain, that was for sure. Ichigo didn't really seem to be putting up much of a fight on her behalf either, something that only added to her righteous annoyance.

_Stupid old Goat-chin__… stupid Ichigo, too…! _Keeping her complaints to herself, she pursed her lips as she endured the torture of being forced to sit in place, like she was some fragile glass sculpture which Ichigo and his dad were scared might accidentally break. They tip-toed around her as they handled her with the utmost care. It was infuriating. She wasn't helpless, nor was she deaf or dumb, damn it!

"Okay, that should about to do it," Isshin announced casually, removing the thermometer from between her lips as Ichigo wrapped up the story in the same instant. Both were completely ignorant to the frustration painted across Tatsuki's features. _I swear to whoever is listening, if he asks me _one more _retarded question I__'__m going to punch him in the face._"Your temperature seems to have cooled down considerably. Not to mention you look a lot better than when Ichigo brought you in. It's probably just a weak stomach bug."

"Lucky me…" Tatsuki said monotonously, complete with deadpan expression. _It__'__s not like I haven__'__t been saying tha__t __for the last twenty_freakin' _minutes!_"Now can I take this damn gown off and go home already?" she asked, her tone now as irritable as she felt. This was _not_how she had planned on spending her evening. Sure, the rather plain and dull looking clinic was far from the worse place in the world to be, what with the decent company in Ichigo's little sisters, but it was hardly her first choice when choosing a place to relax and unwind after a long day at school.

"Sorry, Tatsuki-chan, afraid not," Isshin said, shaking his head as he hung the clipboard he'd been writing on the railing at the end of the bed on which Tatsuki sat. "Whilst I agree with you - you'veprobably just caught bug going around - I'd still like to keep you here overnight for observation. If you're right, you can leave in the morning like nothing happened. I'll even give you the go ahead to go to school if that's what you want to do. If you're wrong and this is something more serious...well, at least someone's close by."

"Peachy," Tatsuki mumbled, folding her arms over her chest and kicking the air in front of her with her legs as her face scrunched up into a childish frown. _Well, this sucks__…_

At that moment, Rukia's head popped around the door frame connecting the patient room to the main Kurosaki house, offering everyone a glittering, well-practiced smile she often used to woo the teachers if she was in some sort of trouble at school.

"Ah, Rukia-chan! Come in, come in!" Isshin beckoned, waving a hand as he spoke. His grin was larger and, if it was possible, even more idiotic than usual. Ichigo just nodded his own greeting, much more subtle about it, whilst Tatsuki herself was too wrapped up in her thoughts about being forced to stay at the clinic overnight to really notice the other girl's arrival.

"I was just dropping by to let you know that I've finished catching up with Yuzu and Karin," said the petite girl. "I really have to be going. But I'llbe sure to make good on the invitation and visit at the weekend," she quickly added, seeing Isshin's distraught expression. Nonetheless, with Rukia's promise, the man-child quenched his tears and nodded resolutely, before turning to Ichigo.

"See, my third daughter is already out and living independently! Why can't you follow her example, my delinquent son?" he bemoaned, clasping his hands together in a dramatic fashion. Ichigo just snorted, rolling his eyes in his seat.

_It__'__s so hard to tell when they__'__re actually being serious with their taunts or__just doing it for shits and giggles. _From her own perch on the corner of the clinic bed, Tatsuki could see the twitch of Ichigo's brow out of the corner of her eye. Obviously, he was trying not to rise to the bait his father had set him with a brash retort as his fiery temper stuck him on autopilot.

"If you want me out, I'll get out. It's no skin off my back if I no longer have to put up with you," Ichigo replied after a few long beats, folding his arms over his chest, marking the end of the discussion. Over by the door, the petite Shinigami, transfixed by the scene, seemed rather taken aback by the teen's cooler – and indeed, much colder than usual – response to his father's dramatics.

Much to her surprise, when Tatsuki twisted her head to observe Isshin's expression to his son's surprisingly clam response she was shocked to find he was visibly hurt by the remark. Her tirade of frustration over being forced to stay in the clinic suddenly vanished, and she felt a pang of sympathy for the goofy doctor. Despite everything he said and did, Isshin cared deeply for his only son and would no doubt be greatly upset when Ichigo did finally move out and become independent.

_Maybe that__'__s why he__'__s upped the surprise attacks._The truth dawned on Tatsuki as she recalled that Ichigo had made an offhanded comment about how his father's tenacity in his attacks seemed to have increased tenfold since he started senior year the other week. Whilst that had seemed rather random and pointless at the time, when put it into context, it made things rather perplexing. _Is he just attacking Ichigo more as a means to spend time with him, to remain important…?_

It baffled her. Whilst Tatsuki knew that Ichigo and his dad had far from what was considered a normal relationship with one another, that didn't mean they were any less close than a father and son should be because of it. Surely Isshin knew Ichigo would spend time with him if he just asked. He didn't need to attack his son to spend more than five minutes at a time with him. The Kurosaki patriarch had seemingly turned to these attacks as some sort of last resort to spend time with his eldest child, so that he could still play a role in his son's daily life. Maybe she was missing something, but she could only come to one logical conclusion as to how Isshin had come up with such a stupid theory: _Men are morons._

"Yes, well," Isshin said after a while, shuffling on the spot. To his credit, Ichigo had the decency to look ashamed, his response having cut much deeper than intended. "Ichigo, if I could talk to you for a moment or two, I just want to clarify one or two things about what you told me." Tatsuki could only groan under her breath when she saw Isshin grab her chart once again. She knew these questions would be about her. _Did I suddenly lose the ability to speak for myself and no one told me?_

"Sure," Ichigo grumbled. When he shot her a slightly reluctant look, Tatsuki tried not to thump him. She didn't need him to hold her hand. "Hey, Rukia can you keep Tatsuki company whilst I talk to the old man?" _Wait, what?_

"Sure thing, Ichigo," said Rukia unquestioningly.

"So I need a baby sitter now, do I?" Tatsuki asked as Ichigo used the arms of his chair to push himself off it. But her words caught him, prompting him to pause. Turning to look at her, his face was calm and surprisingly gentle given his seemingly permanent scowl.

"I never said that, did I?" he replied without any hesitation, his gaze quickly flicking back to his father and silently asking for a moment of privacy. The former Captain was more than happy to oblige, walking down to the other end of the room.

"You're implying it," Tatsuki replied pointedly. She wasn't in the mood for Ichigo's crap; she didn't need him, or anyone else for that matter, to play the big protector and hold her hand for her. It wasn't like she had anything major against Rukia - she barely knew the little Shinigami so it wasn't like she was in a position to judge her - she just didn't like it when people thought they needed to look out for her. She was more than capable of taking care of herself.

But Ichigo's reply honestly shocked her: "Does it really annoy you that much that I'm worried about you, Tatsuki?"There was no response to _that_. She'd expected some hot-headed remark which would prompt their usual bickering that they passed off as friendly banter, which nine times out of ten it was. She didn't know Ichigo had it in him to display his concern openly. It just seemed so…unlike him. _Did that guy from earlier hit him in the head..?_

Tatsuki could only sit in silence, unable to think of anything to say that wouldn't prompt a true-to-character response from Ichigo. So, she let him move down to the other end of the room to talk to his father, turning her head to watch his back as he walked away from her. _Thank you… Ichigo._She might not have liked his overprotective attitude when she really was fine. Yet it meant a lot more to know he cared. Even if he hid it most of the time, he could show it when it counted the most. Now, all he needed to do was learn how to show it without going into knight-in-sour-armour mode with his stupid need to protect everyone and everything close to him. _That attitude will get him killed one of these days…_

In the meantime, Rukia walked up to her, taking Ichigo's vacated seat. She wore a rather amused smile.

"You two get along like the old married couples you read about in books. So quick to disagree and bicker, but you can see that you both care for each other deeply, even if you'd rather not admit it," the Shinigami commented matter-of-factly, prompting Tatsuki to choke. Her reaction only seemed to further amuse Rukia, who had taken to muffling her mirth-infected chuckles behind the palm ofher hand, eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's rather sweet, actually."

"If you say so," Tatsuki replied sarcastically, trying not to roll her eyes in her annoyance.

"Sorry; couldn't resist," Rukia said, her face suddenly changing form that of a giggling school girl to a rather calm, almost thoughtful expression of a woman wise beyond her years. _Was that all an act just to poke fun at me__…__?_Tatsuki thought. If so, Kuchiki really was a better actress than the last time they'd crossed paths. She wouldn't have been fooled a year and a half ago. "But honestly," Rukia continued, "he does care about you. He just wants to know you're alright and that he cares, in his own stupid way."

_You're talking like I don't know him at all…_It irked her slightly, that Rukia thought she knew Ichigo better than her – enough to lecture _her_about the idiot. She'd known him almost her entire life. _Nobody_knew Ichigo better than she did."And how would _you_know, Kuchiki?" Her words came out with much more bite than she intended…and something else mixed in there, too, something else she couldn't quite work out herself. "Sorry," she mumbled after a beat, hanging her head. _Great way to seem civil, Tatsuki, really, great job…!_But as she mentally berated herself, Rukia didn't seem upset in the least.

"You're his friend," was the reply of undeniable and infinite wisdom, and Tatsuki had to concede that Rukia was correct, much to her own surprise and for some reason, annoyance. She herself would have given the exact same response. It was _Ichigo,_after all. The idiot would go to the ends of the earth to help a friend. Hell, he'd invaded two other worlds to save the lives of both Orihime and Rukia respectfully. If that didn't prove he valued his friends above everything else then nothing would. _Though he still has a funny way of showing it at times_, she added as a bitter afterthought.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Tatsuki conceded, turning away to look at some medical posters on sexual health stuck to the wall opposite her bed. She didn't want to meet Rukia's gaze, though she quickly changed direction and looked towards the ceiling after realising what the posters were about. She honestly had no idea what to say anymore. She hadn't meant to come off so rudely, but she couldn't help it at the time.

As the moments ticked by an odd silence soon loomed over the pair – it wasn't exactly what most would call awkward, but it was hardly companionable or comfortable by any stretch of the imagination. It was just…odd. Here she was, Tatsuki mused, sitting on a bed in Ichigo's dad's clinic talking to areal-life Shinigami for the second time that day. Sure, the pair of them had crossed paths and talked before, having shared a few lunch periods together during freshman year which now seemed eons ago, and they had been much more at ease with one another back then.

Maybe the fact she knew _what_Rukia was now made all the difference. Before, she had just been another teenage girl with the ordinary problems one would expect her to have. Whilst now she was a living - metaphorically at least - breathing death god who carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. It made her a little uncomfortable, but at the same time, she was in utter awe of the petite black-haired woman who was sitting in the chair next to her bed. Rukia was in a league of her own.

"…So, what exactly are you to Ichigo?" Tatsuki finally asked, trying to get a conversation going between them and break the awkward silence. Figuring Ichigo, being their common ground, would be the best conversation starter, she stupidly asked the first thing that sprang to mind and the words were tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop herself. "I mean, are you like his death god girlfriend or something?"

Rukia blinked once, twice, three times. She stared at Tatsuki like she'd suddenly morphed into some Greek hydra and started sprouting half a dozen spare heads by the second.

But as soon as the shocked expression had appeared on Rukia's face, it was gone, crushed under a roaring fit of laughter. Clutching her sides, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes, the little Shinigami couldn't bring herself to stop. The Karakura girl was sure that if Rukia hadn't been sitting down, she'd fallen over in her own zealous fit of laughter. And she had absolutely no idea what was so funny.

Down the other end of the room, Ichigo and his father turned from their hushed discussion to stare at the two girls, swapping confused looks. But they quickly went back to their own conversation. They'd both probably decided it was safer for both them and their sanity if they just left well enough alone for the time being.

_Was what I said really_that _funny?_But after a long moment, the laughter finally ceased, with the Shinigami wiping away a few last tears from her eyes. "Sorry," Rukia choked, voice slightly hoarse, her expression caught between bemusement and embarrassment. "I, I just… do we _really_seem like a couple?"

"I dunno; that'swhy I asked," Tatsuki replied with a noncommittal shrug_._Nevertheless, she would'vehad to dislike Rukia on principle if she and Ichigo were a couple – her best friend had been in love with the hapless moron for god knows how long. A little death god form another world swooping in and stealing him from her friend wasn't exactly the kind of thing she'd let go without some sort of fight. One she'd no doubt lose in the end, but that wasn't the point: it was the principle behind it.

"No – we're most definitely _not_a couple," Rukia answered, a reminiscent smile pulling at the corners of her lips as she spoke. "I love Ichigo yes, but I'm not _in love_with him. Ichigo… he's like the annoying brother who I'm constantly having to bail out of trouble because he's too stupid to do it himself." Tatsuki smirked, nodding her agreement, or was it approval…? "He's one of my nakama and I don't think I'll ever see him as anything else. Not in this life, that's for sure. And I'm sure Ichigo would say likewise."

Tatsuki was glad. She wasn't sure she could handle having to break it to Orihime that Ichigo could never love her back in the way she wanted because his heart already belonged to another. It broke her heart just imagining the girl's expression at the news. And she was sure the real thing would be ten times worse than anything she could conjure up. It'd haunt her for the rest of her life. _Orihime deserves him after everything she__'__s been through. She's__earned her happy ending._

"What about you?" Rukia asked, carrying on the conversation as she dragged Tatsuki from her thoughts.

"Eh?" Tilting her head to one side, Tatsuki tried to think of what Kuchiki could have possibly meant by that. She must have missed something the other girl had said whilst she was caught up in her own thoughts. "What do you mean, 'what about you'?"

"Are you interested in Ichigo…romantically?" Rukia asked as casually as Tatsuki has asked her just a few moments before.

"What? _No…_!" Tatsuki declared in alarm, her cheeks flaring up quicker than she thought possible. _What kind of st__u__pid question is that?_It really didn't help that Kuchiki seemed to be fixing her with a rather disbelieving look, confusion shining in her eyes; like she'd expected a different answer, or at least a calmer response. "Are you kidding me? I've known him since I was _four_. Do yourealisehow awkward that would be?"

"Not really, no," Rukia stated in that matter-of-face tone. "Childhood friends become something more all the time. It's rather sweet, actually. I just figured that maybe there was a little more to your relationship, even if you didn't realise it. You know, like in the mangas. Maybe I'm just reading too much into things…"

"Fortunately, we don't live in a manga," Tatsuki replied dryly, face scrunching up at the very idea. Rukia nodded, almost sadly. It was bizarre, she would admit, talking to Rukia so casually so quickly when a few moments ago they'd sat in murky silence. They'd somehow gone from complete strangers to discussing things that one would expect best friends to talk about. But now that they _were_talking, even if it was one of the most bizarre conversations she'd ever had, Tatsuki couldn't help feel the rather surreal conversation seemed to come completely naturally to her. The tension from before was completely gone.

"Maybe in another reality…"The karate champion could only snort at Rukia's comment. _Yeah, and maybe not. Who the hell would want to read about an orange-haired hot head and an undead midget in a black kimono with a katana anyway…?_"Weirdoes," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head.

But before her thoughts could continue any further down their current path, Ichigo's outraged cry of "The hell do you mean by that?" caused both girls to turn their gaze to the two men at the other side of the room. Whatever Isshin and Ichigo were talking about, it'd gotten the latter noticeably agitated by some means or another.

But the former Shinigami Captain quickly hushed his son, turning the pair away so their backs were to Tatsuki and Rukia. They resumed their conversation again in hushed tones. "Wonder what that was about…?" the karate practitioner muttered, unable to help the uneasy feeling in her gut that whatever they were talking about had something to do with her. _That, or it's those morons just being their usual moronic selves._She wouldn't bet against it, Ichigo's father just being himself and saying something stupid in an attempt to tease his son. But that didn't seem right, either, given Isshin's actions. Something wasn't right…

Turning back to look at Rukia, she found the other girl peering around her from her seat, trying to see what was going on for herself. "So…"

"So," Rukia repeated, nodding her head with a hint of uncertainty, as though not sure where to continue the conversation, "which of his crazy so-called adventures did Ichigo regale you with? I'm sure he left out something or other to make himself look better, knowing him and his pride."

Much to her surprise, Tatsuki smiled, words tumbling out of her mouth before she knew what she was doing. The very idea of learning more about the messes Ichigo and Rukia had gotten themselves into interested her a lot more than any old regular conversation would, and wanting to know just how truthful some of Ichigo's recounts had been was a plus. Some of them just seemed utterly ridiculous, but she was surprised by Rukia's willingness to talk about them. Whatever it was, she was going to go with it for the time being. Maybe Rukia was just trying to pacify her with stories or maybe she really thought she could actually trust Tatsuki with the details of some of the stories.

Maybe they were all just lies.

But at the end of day, she didn't care because the conversation helped drag her thoughts away from the conversation Ichigo was having with his father. A conversation which no doubt had everything to do with her. It helped her forget the bad feeling that was making her stomach twist into knots. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but feel something bad was coming.

Something she'd be powerless to stop, just like always.

* * *

><p>"Okay, what's so important that about Tatsuki that you have to ask me all the way over here?" Ichigo asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweats and fixing his father with an annoyed expression. "I already told you everything that happened."<p>

"I know," Isshin nodded, glancing at the clipboard for a brief moment. "I just want to go over one or two things again. That's all, I swear," he added, holding up his hands when Ichigo looked at him suspiciously, as if expecting a roundhouse kick out of the blue when his father supposedly wanted a serious conversation with him. _Wouldn't be the first time it's happened,_ Ichigo thought, justifying his suspicions in his mind.

"Alright, what exactly is it you want to go over?" Ichigo said, deciding he'd go along with whatever his father was up to for the time being. Maybe he was just double-checking things. _But why would he want to ask me and not Tatsuki? And why all the way over here…?_It didn't sit right with him. What was so different about these details that his dad had to double check out of earshot of Tatsuki herself when he'd pretty much asked her everything already? Ichigo himself had only clarified a few details by filling in the blanks in the story.

"Just a few things; I'll make this quick," his father assured, pulling a pen from the breast pocket of his lab coat, clicking down on the top and pressing the tip to a blank sheet of paper on his clipboard. "Tatsuki's pretty adamant this is just a stomach bug, and some symptoms seem to support that claim, but have you seen her eat anything odd that she usually wouldn't over the past few days that might have made her ill?"

"Not that I can think of…" Ichigo replied after a moment's thought, realising his father had a point. "Unless it was today at lunch. I didn't eat with her today, so I wouldn't know, but if the past few days are anything to go by, she wouldn't have had anything in the first place. She's not been eating much recently, at least not around me. I can ask Inoue if you want."

"No, it's fine." Isshin shook his head, frowning as he scribbled down what Ichigo was saying. His son could only watch on with a hint of puzzlement, his scowl tightening its hold on his features with each word scribbled on the piece of paper, his father holding the clipboard in such a manner that he couldn't sneak a glance at it without giving away what he was doing. _Just what the hell is going through his head right now that he won't let me see what he's writing?_"You also mentioned Tatsuki being rather tired, her endurance levels like those of someone who barely exercises at all. Something about stiff joints too?"

"Yeah-" Ichigo began, only for a sudden shriek to cut through his words midsentence. Both of them turned to see what had happened, only to find that Rukia was responsible for the howls of laughter, the young woman clutching her sides as tears streamed down her cheeks. Tatsuki looked utterly confused, not much different from Ichigo himself. _Wonder what she's finding so funny…_Shaking his head; Ichigo went back to his conversation with his father; it was safer for him to protect what sanity he had left.

"Anyway, Tatsuki's stamina does seem to be slipping lately," Isshin continued. "It's almost like she's been gaining twenty pounds every other week for the past few months, but if anything, I think she's _losing_weight."

Unfolding his arm as to rub the back of his head, Ichigo tried to think about where his father was going with this. It was clear now that his father was of the opinion that this was more than just a mere stomach bug or whatever Tatsuki was trying to play it off as. The question was, what did his father think it was? "She's complained about being stiff a few times the next day after running, or after karate practice. But she knows better than anyone to stretch before doing that kind of stuff. Hell, she's the one on my case to stretch before running."

"I thought as much…" Isshin sighed, clicking his pen again before tucking it back in his breast pocket. Gazing at his clipboard, held in one hand, the retired Shinigami ran the other through his hair, frowning as his eyes ran back and forward over the information Ichigo had provided him with again and again.

"Old man," Ichigo said, tone somewhere between worried and annoyed. _Just what the hell is going on with Tatsuki?_

"I can't confirm anything, not yet, anyway. Ichigo, I want you to keep an eye on Tatsuki over the next few weeks, a close one." _Why only keep one on__her__when__I can spare both?_"Now don't freak out here and let me finish before you say anything, okay?"

"Alright…" Ichigo nodded stiffly, his frown back in full force. He didn't know where his father was going with this, but he knew sure enough that he wasn't going to like it one bit.

"Now, for the past month or so Tatsuki has been _leaking_Reiatsu, like you did when became a Shinigami. But it's on a much smaller scale, on a level you'd only actually notice it if you were looking for it. I doubt even Ryûken's kid has noticed it, seeing as he wouldn't know to look for it." Ichigo's blank expression said it all for him: _What's that got to do with any of this?_

Frowning, Isshin took a moment to think, as though working out how best to phrase what he had to say. "Listen, Ichigo, you already know this, I'm sure, but the human body can only handle so much raw Reiatsu, whether it be someone else's or, by the looks of it, its own. And Tatsuki's own Reiatsu has grown _way_above what I would classify as safe for an ordinary human with no means to take control of it and, given what she's been exposed to in the past… well, let's just say I think some of the side effects are finally starting to catch up to her."

"The hell do you mean by that?" Ichigo demanded, loudly enough that both the girls heard him down the other end of the room. But his father quickly silenced him with a stern look, a rather odd expression on his usually goofy features.

"I don't know, alright? And I thought you said you'd let me finish…!" the former Captain hissed back, grabbing his son's shoulder and turning them away so the girls were left looking at their backs. Ichigo made to retort, but bit his tongue, nodding for his father to continue.

"Listen, Ichigo, I've never seen nor have I ever heard of _anything_like this before. Not with a human, of course. For all I know, Tatsuki's body has simplyrealised that her Reiatsu has reached dangerous levels for her and is trying to burn off the excess and get her down to safe levels again. By burning away all her energy, it puts her body under a lot more stress than usual, and now it's affecting her eating habits…probably sleeping ones too. I honestly can't tell you any more details without getting access to the Fourth's records to see if this has ever happened before. For all we know, Tatsuki is case zero here. I pray she's not, either way. Not with men like Kurotsuchi Mayuri running around unchecked."

"You make it sound like some damn disease. There's _nothing_wrong with her," Ichigo stated, glaring at his father. _And there's no fucking way I'm going to let that__asshole Shinigami turn Tatsuki into a lab rat if he ever finds out._

"I didn't mean it like that," Isshin rebuked, a little offended by his son's accusation. He knew very well there was nothing wrong with Tatsuki. She was a fine young woman who had simply been dealt a bad hand. "All I'm saying is that I've got no idea how this might progress. As far as I know, it's unheard of. Just keep a close eye on her and let me know if things get any worse. And don't mention this to _anyone_."

_What…?_Ichigo's frown deepened for the briefest of seconds before he realised what his father was actually implying. His eyes quickly darted to Rukia, who was once again talking to Tatsuki about something or other. _Does he_know_?_But when he stopped to think for a second, it made sense. How could his father _not_know about Rukia, given that he knew about him all along and what he himself was. _I bet the old bastard's known all along about Rukia…!_

Sighing in defeat, Ichigo looked away, casting his gaze back to Tatsuki and Rukia, the pair talking much more animatedly than before. He didn't like lying to his precious people, least of all either of them, but it was for the best, wasn't it? He didn't want to go back to keeping secrets from Tatsuki. He still had a slight scar across the back of his head after she put his head through a window last time he had. Not to mention this could all be nothing and blow over without any further incident, no need to worry everyone when it could go nowhere,_ r__ight…_?

"Only if you tell me the second you know more." Ichigo decided to bargain: he would not let his father keep him out of the loop on this. If something was wrong with one of his friends, especially Tatsuki, he was damn well going to know about it. Even if he couldn't do something about it personally, he could be there for them in his own way. "And I reserve the right to tell Tatsuki if this does get worse. She's my friend; I'll break it to her."

"I think that's a fair deal." Isshin nodded his head, a little surprised Ichigo was quick to agree to keep this a secret. After what Tatsuki did to him last time and how tense things had been for months after between them he'd have figured he'd have to at least talk his son into secrecy. But he wasn't one to look the gift horse in the mouth. "I'll let you know the instant I know anything more, Ichigo. That's a promise. Now c'mon, let's not keep the ladies waiting any longer."

"Hey, wait, Dad…"

Ichigo's father turned back to look at him over his shoulder, slightly surprised at the rare address of 'Dad', instead of 'old man' or 'goat-chin.'

"I'm… I'm sorry about what I said to you earlier," said Ichigo in a rare display of humility. "I stepped over the line with that one…"

"It's alright, Ichigo," Isshin said gruffly. But the goofy doctor could not hide his grateful smile as he turned back to the girls. Without another word, Isshin strutted back over towards Tatsuki and Rukia. "My, my, how you girls put up with Ichigo is beyond me. Such a chatterbox; I couldn't shut him up!"

"Burn in hell, you old bastard," Ichigo retorted as he brought up the rear, staring at his father with a deadpan expression. _Well, the seriousness was nice whilst it lasted, but he wouldn't be the old man if he wasn't an idiot…_

"Who taught you such insults?" Isshin demanded, putting on a comically stern façade as he looked disapprovingly at his son. "Not your beloved daddy, that's for sure! I will show you how we punish such remarks in this house!" Acting on autopilot, Ichigo quickly struck out with one arm, catching sight of his father smashing into his outstretched hand, flying off his feet and crashing to the ground with a groan.

"You really try too hard sometimes…" Ichigo said with a shake of his head. Why couldn't he have a normal father like everyone else? Then again, having a normal father would be boring, and he'd take his loon of a father over boring normality any day. He'd learnt the hard way that wanting something and getting it was the best way to help you realise just how much you preferred things the way they were.

His father quickly bounced back to his feet, dusting himself off like nothing had happened. "Excellent reaction, my son: you will make daddy a very proud granddaddy someday, I just know it!" Ichigo turned his head slightly to look at Isshin, expression unreadable as he mulled over which arm to break first. But his father quickly realised his own error and was backpedalling like a crazed man… which he was, but that wasn't the point.

"What's that!" Isshin shouted as he faked hearing something hearing from the other room, cupping a hand to his ear. He darted towards Rukia, grabbing her arm and pulling her from the chair with a mighty tug. "Coming, Yuzu!" he declared. "And Daddy is bringing Rukia-chan too~! Don't worry, help is on the way!" Ichigo and Tatsuki just stared blankly, Ichigo unable to decide whether to groan in embarrassment or simply try and block his father from his mind.

Rukia could only fire an imploring look at Ichigo and Tatsuki as she was dragged form the room, though neither of them looked as though they were in any sort of hurry to help her escape from Isshin. "C'mon, Rukia-chan, let's leave the love birds alone~!" Isshin said jovially as he disappeared around the door and out of sight, his pace quickening slightly at the duel outraged cries of "_What?_"

* * *

><p>After beating a hasty retreat from the clinic and leaving Ichigo and Tatsuki to themselves, Isshin had released Rukia, apologising for turning her into a hostage to use for his own escape to safety. The sweet little girl, or at least the sweet little girl she presented him with, told him there was no need to apologise before adding sadly that she had to leave.<p>

And so he had shown her to the door, waving her off as he watched her back slowly melt into the darkness of the evening. Lowering his arm, the Shinigami-turned-doctor chanced a quick glance over his shoulder, stuffing his hands into his pockets with a slight chuckle. He might have spent nearly twenty years without any powers, but that didn't mean the hairs on the back of his neck didn't stand up when he was being watched.

"Lovely night, wouldn't you agree, Yoruichi?"

As quickly as he could blink, a black cat appeared at his feet, padding in circles around his legs before sitting down next to his feet like a loyal dog would sit next to its master. A short silence passed between them, a slight breeze blowing, before the cat's large golden eyes flicked upwards to look at him and then quickly diverted to the evening sky. Isshin understood, and he, too, quickly turned to stare at the grey clouds that had taken over the sky, blotting out the stars from view.

"So, tell me, Yoruichi, how long has Kisuke had you following Tatsuki?"

A beat.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Isshin. Can I no longer come around and visit an old friend whilst I'm in town?" _Should've seen that one coming,_he chided himself.

"Be like that, then; doesn't bother me," he replied with a shake of his head, letting the matter drop despite knowing all too well that Yoruichi was here for anything but a social call. _Well, I can't force her to tell me anything if she doesn't want to: she wasn't the best damn assassin that the Gotei Thirteen ever had for nothing._"I should be getting back to check on my patient one last time before making sure the girls have done their homework and gone to bed and informing the Arisawas where their daughter is."

"If you say so," the cat said in response to his ramble. "Just try not to overdo it with your attacks on Ichigo. Your old body probably can't take the punishment it used to back in our academy days." And with that, Yoruichi nodded her farewell. Returning the nod with a dry chuckle, Isshin tried not to rise to the cat's taunt. If someone had told him in the academy that his life would have ended up the way it did, he probably would have asked how to avoid putting up with the talking cat of all things.

Before long, he turned on his heel and headed for the gate, pushing it open as he headed back inside. He'd check on Yuzu and Karin before making one last stop by the clinic to make sure Ichigo and Tatsuki hadn't murdered one another in his absence. Isshin would never forgive his son should Tatsuki kill him because of something stupid the idiot said. _So many hours of instruction gone to waste and not one grandchild to show for it…!_

"Isshin."

He stopped the gate mid swing, looking over his shoulder as Yoruichi spoke again.

"Kisuke sends his regards. He says we should all try and catch up again sometime ._All_that's left of the old gang is in town, after all."

_That bad, huh? _He nodded nonetheless, showing he understood the true meaning behind the feline's words. Watching the cat stretch before slinking off into the night, Isshin bit back a groan, hanging his head as he ran a hand through his hair. _Looks like things are about to get serious again… I'm getting too old for this crap. At this rate, I won't live long enough to see those grandkids…_Sighing, he decided he'd make do and roll with the punches.

As fervently as he wished it, there was nothing else he could do for now.

* * *

><p><strong>And there's chapter four, nothing to say just now, apart from thanks for all the viewsalerts/favs/and or reviews and that I'll see you next week with chapter five. Don't forget to be awesome, people!**


	6. Sound of Madness

…**And Justice for All**

**Act I - Enter the Unforgiven**

**Chapter V **– _Sound of Madness_

* * *

><p><strong>Thursday, 21<strong>**st**** of April**

Ichigo could only frown as he felt a few droplets of water fall from the sky above him, bursting with a _plop_as they hit the pavement at his feet_. Just great_… he thought as he cast his gaze to the grey heavens above. The sky was overcast with an army of sickly and flat clouds, which were dragging themselves across the sky above Karakura at a pace that would have a snail laughing with amused pity. _The one day it decides to rain, I don't have a jacket on me. It was nice yesterday as well… _God, how he _hated _the rain.

"Oh, wonderful, just utterly _wonderful_," Tatsuki said from next to Ichigo as they walked down the street towards Karakura High School, his father having given her a clean bill of health. Not that Ichigo himself had been surprised by that declaration. Nor had he missed Tatsuki's muttering of _"I told you so…" _as she rolled her eyes. He hadn't been able to fully hide his smile at that one. Thankfully, no one had noticed: the last thing he needed was people thinking he, Kurosaki Ichigo, with the face of a punk and a façade of stone, was going soft.

His father would never let him live it down.

So Ichigo just grunted in agreement. In such a situation, there was no need for words between them. Tatsuki was well aware of his distaste for rain. She knew him better than anyone. And that was why he knew that she knew that something was irking him. That, and the pointed look she was fixing him with, her face set in a determined expression with a stern dip of her brow, was bound to give _something _away.

"Alright, what's got you brooding _this _time?" His frown deepened at the accusation. He wasn't brooding; his mind was just preoccupied with other things.

"I'm not brooding," he rebuked in echo of his thoughts, voice slightly hoarse. What was he supposed to say? "Just tired; didn't sleep last night." Yeah, she could tell, or at least that's what her expression said. He must have looked worse than he thought he did. "I'm fine, just got a lot on my mind, is all." _Like the fact the voices I've been hearing on and off for the past week weren't in my head at all, they were _ghosts _talking to Karin and ev__e__ryone else around me and I was too stupid to work it out on my own_. That, coupled with the fact that he himself had actually been able to _see _the little ghost boy the night before. Truth be told, had no idea what was going on with himself.

"Like Rukia?" came the somewhat unexpected reply. He wanted to snort. Rukia was only a tiny - both figuratively and literally speaking - part of the bizarre equation that was his life of late. _Am I regaining my powers or something…?_ That was certainly something he wanted to know. He'd settle for at least some sort of explanation as to why he could hear and occasionally see the dead once more. Anything to give him one less thing to think about so he wouldn't lose what little sanity he had left.

"I guess that's part of it," he answered brusquely. But in the end, no matter how many times his mind had wandered to Rukia's reappearance and the seeming return of his abilities (and whether or not the two things might be connected), Ichigo found that the question that bothered him the most was, what was wrong with Tatsuki? One of his friends was suffering, and he couldn't do squat about it. And he hated that feeling more than anything else in the world.

"Ichigo, are you keeping something from me again?" Tatsuki's voice was soft, serious.

_Where do I begin…? _What was he supposed to tell her, damn it? That out of nowhere, he was suddenly beginning to hear and see ghosts again? That the chest pain he was experiencing was only getting worse no matter what he did? Or that her vomiting incident the night before wasn't a stomach bug, but something spiritual that had to do with her Reiatsu getting too high and it could be dangerous for her, and that if it did indeed get worse, his father had no idea what to do because she'd be case zero? That she'd turned into some sort of ticking time bomb and they couldn't know whether she'd be a dud or not when she finally went off? How the hell was he supposed to tell her _that_?

It was all just too much.

He didn't know what to do about any of it. And in that moment he found himself missing his Shinigami powers more than ever. At least when he'd been a Shinigami, things had been much simpler: bad guys got up to no good, he'd go fight said bad guys and blow off some steam, then win and save the day, and finally come home and pretend like nothing happened in the first place. That was all there was to it.

But things weren't simple anymore. He was trapped in a minefield and no matter what he did, he was bound to step on one of them and set off a domino effect. He just couldn't win. _I need help. _No, what he _needed_ was to talk with Geta-Bõshi. And soon.

"_Ichigo!"_

Without even realising it, the pair of them had ground to a halt, having turned to face each other in the silence. Her patient yet stern tone dragged him from his thoughts. "Are you hiding something from me again?"

"I…" Any words he might have forced out died in his throat, and he shook his head. She'd probably hate him for it later, but he'd endure that hate if it meant the here and now was easier. He might have been a brave warrior on the battlefield when fighting for the lives of his friends or his own, but at the end of the day he could shrug it off when the battle was won.

What happened on the battlefield stayed on the battlefield. That was all there was to it. But this was one battlefield he didn't know how to fight on. This was the real world.

And in the real world, he couldn't fix his problems by throwing a good punch or swinging a huge sword around until his opponent was face first in the dirt. In the real world, every action had very real consequences which he would have to deal with. Whether long lasting or not, they were still there for everyone around him to see. And to tell Tatsuki what was going on, to get it out in the open, would make it all the more real, and the consequences would quickly rear their ugly head and attack like they always did.

Though it shamed him to admit it, he was scared of change, of the consequences his actions would have. Despite his claims to the contrary, the _really_ big and important actions ended up screwing him over more often than not. The _Final__Getsuga Tenshõ_ was just the tip of the iceberg. He was a coward who didn't know how to handle change without instantly throwing up his walls to try and protect himself. He was pathetic.

And like always, he opted to try and dodge the inevitable change ahead. To outrun the consequences for as long as his legs stayed strong and kept carrying him forward.

"No, Tatsuki, I'm not hiding anything from you," he affirmed after a pause as she opened her mouth, getting ready to say something. She knew he was lying to her; he was certain of it. She always seemed to know when he was lying somehow. But more often than not, they would pretend he wasn't, simply because they were both too stubborn and it was easier to play dumb than butt heads more than they already did. He was the unstoppable force to her immovable object.

But it didn't look like that was going to be the case this time as Tatsuki made ready to speak, no doubt to berate him for being a moron and needing to trust her, that she'd support him not matter what was going on. But he _did _trust her, Ichigo thought before she even got a word out. He trusted her more than anyone. It was _himself _he didn't trust: he didn't do well with change and after last time, he didn't trust himself with it, as he'd only end up doing even more damage.

But most of all, it was because she was Tatsuki. She was his oldest and dearest friend, and as long as he kept his conversation with his father about her to himself, he could go around pretending like it was all just a really bad dream. The idea of losing her, of Tatsuki no longer being there when he needed her, of losing the one constant in his life outside of his family, was crushing. To accept the possibility of such a thing would destroy him. He wasn't strong enough to survive that kind of loss a second time.

"Now listen here–"

"Hey, Ichigo."

_Saved! _he thought, blinking dumbly as he looked to his left in time to see Rukia emerging from a side-street a little ways behind them, followed by none other than that Marukami guy from the previous day.

"Rukia, Marukami," he nodded, giving his own greeting as the pair of new arrivals walked up to him and Tatsuki. After she exchanged greetings with the other two and they began walking again, though, she was quick to shoot him a look that said their previous conversation was _far _from over.

But for now it didn't matter. He'd dodged the bullet and he could live with that. He'd work out how to weasel out of the conversation next time when he needed to. Winging it like he always did was the most likely solution.

"So what were you guys talking about?" Marukami asked, trying to strike up some casual conversation. Ichigo just grunted in response. Tatsuki could take point on this one, for all he cared about; he wasn't in the mood for idle chatter.

"Nothing important," Tatsuki said in a low voice, looking anywhere and everywhere but in his direction. Honestly, he couldn't blame her.

"Sure didn't _seem _unimportant from the looks you were giving each other," Marukami pointed out, all smiles and completely oblivious to the warning frown Rukia was giving him. Nor did he seem aware of the glares he and Tatsuki were directing at him, unless he just wasn't letting them faze him.

"Mind your own damn business," Ichigo snapped, stuffing his hands into his pocket and pulling ahead of everyone else.

"Well _excuse _me," Marukami mumbled dejectedly, frowning at Ichigo's cold shoulder. It didn't help that Tatsuki was following suit, opting to use her time to instead glare holes into the back of her best friend's neck.

"If you need anyone to talk to I'm here to listen, Ichigo." Rukia's voice grabbed his attention as he rounded another corner, the school building now looming ahead of them. Ichigo turned to look down at her, watching as she tried to keep pace with his much larger strides. He eventually shook his head in dismissal of Rukia's gesture, though he couldn't hold back a grateful sigh.

"Thanks for the offer, Rukia, really," he replied as he shot her a weak smile of gratitude, "but I don't think I'll take you up on it." The short Shinigami gave her own nod of understanding. She knew him well enough to know forcing the issue would lead nowhere, so she wouldn't push him, and for that, the former Visored was eternally grateful. He just needed some time to get his head straight and talk with Geta-Bõshi.

"Kuchiki-san, you really are back!" The call of Inoue Orihime caught everyone by surprise. Standing inside the opening of the school gate, the young woman gave them all one of her brightest smiles and a wave. Chad, who stood next to her, went for a much more subtle nod, which Ichigo returned without missing a beat.

"Inoue," he added, giving a second nod as he and Rukia approached the others, Tatsuki and Marukami a few steps behind them. He couldn't help but notice it was a little odd that, whilst Marukami pulled straight up to them to engage Chad in conversation, Tatsuki ground to a halt half a dozen steps behind them and just stared.

"Kurosaki-kun~" Inoue chirped, her smile widening as she gave Rukia a quick hug of greeting, which was returned without hesitation on the other's part. Ichigo smiled slightly to himself again, glad to know that some things would never change. Orihime then glanced behind him and said, "Tatsuki-chan." Looking over his shoulder, he saw the karate champion give a stiff nod and force a smile for Inoue. But Tatsuki's eyes quickly flicked back to him, and she glared before folding her arms over her chest. _I really do wonder who's more stubborn sometimes…_

Orihime gave Ichigo a questioning look over the top of Rukia's head. Her eyes shimmered with concern, as though she were begging him for some sort of explanation as to what was going on with Tatsuki. _I'll explain la__t__er, I promise_, he mouthed to her. She nodded in response, trusting him to follow through. But he really had no idea what he was going to say to her.

He ran a hand through his hair, which was slightly wet. He looked up as the drizzle began to gain a little momentum, coming down harder than before. _It's probably only going to get worse…_Sighing, he wished the day would hurry up and finish, but it seemed as though it was just going to be one of those days when the minutes dragged into hours.

_Today is not going to be a good __day… _Combing through his hair again with his hand, he tried to keep his bangs out of his eyes so he could see where he was going. He gave his school building a quick glance. The scaffolding worked its way up the face of the building like some overgrown plant, empty as the construction crew had probably found somewhere dry to wait out the downpour.

"Might as well get this day over with," Ichigo muttered to himself as he walked over to join Inoue, Rukia and Chad. After all, no matter how bad today was, tomorrow would be an improvement, right?

Clearly, he had no idea how bad the next few days would be.

* * *

><p>Tatsuki liked to think she was justified whenever she got angry, and when Ichigo had stormed ahead and ended up in conversation with Rukia when he'd stonewalled her moments before, she felt more than justified about wanting to rip him a new one.<p>

_Oh, sure, he can talk to _her _easily enough, _she thought, eyes narrowed and fists tightened at her side as walked up to the school gates. What was so special about Rukia that made her so damn easy to talk to? What made the little Death God better than her? _Well, she's not stuck to the same spot, constantly staring at the backs of her friends as they charge off without her…_ Rukia was part of the superhero club, whilst she, Tatsuki, was a mere mortal stuck in a firm reality she'd rather not face.

And she found it angered her – no, it _infuriated _her. Enough to make her come to a stop and tighten her grip, trying to ease the urge to punch something, part of her wishing she'd taken that stress ball her mother had offered her. But more than anything she found the thing she felt above all wasn't anger, though it was a close second - it was hurt. _Betrayal_.

It hurt that the little Shinigami had been back a day at most and already she was fitting back in with everyone like she'd never even been gone in the first place. Orihime had pulled her into a hug, quickly striking up some friendly chatter that Kuchiki seemed only too happy to oblige in, whilst Marukami launched himself into a conversation with Chad. Even Ichigo just seemed content to stand in his silence, gaze flicking back and forth between everyone with a small smile on his face. It'd taken weeks, _months_for her to feel like part of the gang again after the events of freshman year, yet Rukia didn't even need a day before she fit back in with everyone again.

"Tatsuki-chan," Orihime's cheery welcome pulled her from her thoughts, and she nodded slightly and tried to smile for her friend. But the confused look on the copper-haired girl's face told her she saw straight through it. And she wasn't the only, she could feel Ichigo's own eyes on her but she was quick to ward him off with a glare. He was the last person she wanted to talk to, she told herself as she crossed her arms.

She caught the quick exchange between Ichigo and Orihime and her scowl only deepened. Great, everyone was back to worrying needlessly about her. _Stupid Ichigo. This is all his fault. _She would not be told otherwise. She _was _fine. Or so she would claim until she was blue in the face.

But no matter how much she tried to deny it, the thing she felt as she gazed on at her friends, at how easily Kuchiki fit in with them and how open they all seemed to be with her, there was no doubt that the emotion she was feeling was indeed jealousy. She was _jealous _of Kuchiki. And it made her want to pull her hair out and scream. She was _not _the little girl that got jealous because her friends had someone other than her in their lives. She would never let herself be _that _girl. Then why, she thought, _why_ did she feel this stupid pang in her chest?

It was _that_ again. The feeling from seventeen months ago had returned. The feeling of being left behind and forgotten; something she'd hoped she'd never feel again. Despite what Ichigo might think about his lack of powers and how it would affect everything, Tatsuki knew he had nothing to worry about. He still had his bonds with these people. Bonds which she could never understand because they ran deeper than anything she herself had ever experienced. Comrades who had stood together and stared down monsters worse than she could ever conjure up in her worst nightmares and come out the other end, all the closer for the battles they fought side-by-side.

It made her feel so tiny in comparison, like some little insect and she hated it. She hated her friends for making her feel like that. But most of all, she hated herself for feeling the way she did. Was this wrong, though, to want to run alongside her friends instead of being stuck to the same spot for the rest of her life, slowly watching their backs fade from view as they ventured off a grand adventure and left her behind again and again…?

And in that moment she realised she was jealous of more than just Kuchiki and the fact she seemed to have replaced her. She was jealous of _all _of them. Of the bonds they shared that she could never have with any of them – which she would never even understand the way they did. Of the adventures they endured together which had drawn them closer together. And part of her, deep down, wished she could have been a part of it all more than anything else.

Her stomach twisted at the realisation. Maybe she was that petty jealous girl after all, at least when it came to her friends, who in that moment seemed like giants whom she could only be in awe of as she hung her head in shame. _What I wouldn't give…_

"You seem distracted, Arisawa."

She shook her head to clear it of her thoughts, and turned to see who had spoken. Walking up to her with his bag slung over his shoulder was Ishida, who seemed to have the sense to wear a raincoat in this weather. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked.

"Fine, why wouldn't I be?" she said nonchalantly, shrugging. She wasn't in the mood to have this conversation with anyone, let alone Ishida of all people. She might never be able to catch up to her friends again, but she'd never ask them to come back and help her just because she was too weak to help herself. She'd solve her problems on her own; she had too much pride to let others help her so easily.

Thankfully, the Quincy decided to let the matter drop. _Finally, someone who knows when to mind their own business! _Ishida walked past her so he could make his way to class. She never did quite catch the questioning look the Quincy shot Ichigo as they passed one another, the orange-haired teen mouthing something back before turning back to her.

"Oi, Tatsuki, are you comin' or not?" Ichigo called out to her while the others made their way to class, hands in his pocket as he scowled at her. Like it was _her _fault that he was choosing to stand out in the rain and get wet. _God, what a moron…_

"Yeah, I'm coming," Tatsuki called back, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder before storming up to where Ichigo was waiting for her. She returned his scowl with interest. "Don't think our conversation from earlier is finished."

"It's nothing," Ichigo rumbled, shifting to avoid her gaze as she pulled up next to him.

_Yeah, sure it isn't_, she thought bitterly. _If it's nothing, look me in the eye__and say it again, you bastard! _But before she could put her thoughts into actual words, there was a large creaking groan. "What the hell…?" she exclaimed.

She glanced over at Ichigo, who was starting at the scaffolding with growing horror. That was what had made the sound. Realizing what had scared Ichigo, she noticed the whole structure shaking. _Oh god…_ Before Tatsuki could wonder what had caused it to become so rickety, there was another groan. The supports snapped as one of the beams holding the whole thing up came loose, bringing down a whole floor, along with all the equipment and supplies that been resting on it.

"Look out!" Ichigo bellowed from his spot next to her as the wreckage plummeted down towards a pair of girls who were walking right underneath. All Tatsuki could do was stand in watch in horror as the girls' screams rang across the entire schoolyard for everyone to hear. She wasn't sure whether the girls were stupid or just paralyzed with fear, but either way, they simply froze into place, throwing their hands over their heads.

But Chad was there. Old reliable Chad had dashed for the girls, throwing up his arms as he towered over them and used his own body as a shield from any falling debris. Tatsuki, on the other hand, could still do nothing more than stand there – was she so different from those ordinary girls? – glued to the spot as the world around her seemed to slow down, sounds becoming muffled as everything bled together.

And as quickly as things had slowed to a stop, they began speeding up again as soon as the last of the tools from a toolbox on the scaffolding bounced off the soaked concrete of the schoolyard. People began rushing forward to see if anyone was seriously injured, but Chad, being Chad, was more concerned with the girls' well-being than his own; he shrugged off the impact of the debris that had hit him, whilst the girls thanked him nonstop for saving them.

But out of nowhere a rumbling chuckle split the air like a clap of thunder. Some people probably thought it was one. But Tatsuki knew better… and Ichigo likely knew even better than she did. Indeed, her head snapped up in time to see Ichigo staring at something on top of the school roof in horror. _That thing did this…! _But before she could really register it, the thing was gone in a flicker of its black robes as another thundering chuckle split the air like a whip-crack.

Tatsuki was about to say something to Ichigo, but she was interrupted as a group of teachers and other members of the school staff arrived on the scene and started issuing commands in an attempt to enforce some order among the panicked students.

"All students report to the gym hall and notify your homeroom teacher!" the burly P.E. teacher, Kagine-sensei, barked, clambering up onto one of the picnic tables. Though normally a strict and unwavering man, his voice carried a slight undertone of panic now. "The rest of the staff will conduct an inspection to determine if this was an isolated incident and make sure the rest of the school is secure!" No one argued with him, but a wave of whispers and hushed jabs at the construction crew ebbed back and forth, each piece of information changing slightly with every three or four mouths that passed it on.

"C'mon, we should go," Ichigo said as he made to follow the crowd. Tatsuki nodded slightly as she noticed Ishida and Kuchiki slip away. No doubt, they'd suspected some supernatural involvement and were off to do some investigating of their own. Meanwhile, Ichigo and Tatsuki allowed themselves to be swept up into the mass of students headed to the gym. They were quickly joined by Orihime, who looked slightly panicked but was managing a weak smile of assurance, whilst Chad wasn't too far behind, having escaped the nurses perusing him.

With a sigh, Tatsuki sunk into a rhythm, walking next to her friends in silence as they went headed for the gym hall off the main school building. She really was doing the only thing she could do now: going with the crowd and leaving everything to someone else. It looked as though her gut feeling from the night before was right. _I hate it when I'm right…!_

Again, she wanted to scream in frustration at her helplessness. But no matter how, jealous, frustrated or saddened she might be, come the next evening, it would all pale in comparison…

* * *

><p>An old and battered 1963 DeSoto sat at an angle outside Karakura High School, one of the front wheels having mounted the curb when the driver, clearly less than skilled at the art, had parked. Inside, the old leather seats were faded and used, the dashboard littered with old newspapers and burnt-out cigarettes. A few old fast food packets littered the floor. There was even a mug of cold coffee sitting in cup holster.<p>

The driver didn't seem to mind, though. Instead, he'd just sprawled himself across the front two seats, leaning against the driver's door with the window rolled down slightly, smoke from a fresh cigarette wafting out of the gap as the rain crashed down around the car outside.

He was a Caucasian man looking to be in his mid-twenties, with messy black hair that fell about his face and covered his ears. Heavy eyelids drooped over deep crimson eyes which flickered open and closed every few minutes, his head lolling back slightly as his cigarette threatened to fall out of his mouth, balancing ever so delicately on his lower lip. He was dressed in a pair of worn black jeans and a matching coloured muscle shirt which he wore beneath an unbuttoned, loose silk red shirt. Taking into account the days-old stubble and the fact that it looked like he hadn't changed his clothes in the past three days, he might have been able to pass himself off as a drifter, living in the car itself.

_So bloody bored… _he thought, wishing time would just hurry up. She could have assigned anyone this bloody tedious task, but no, she gave it to him. _She's such a bitch when she wants to be, _he groused, shuffling from side to side in his awkward sitting position as he tried to make himself more comfortable. Wincing, he decided he'd had enough.

Pulling his feet back, he swung himself around so he was sitting properly, before twisting to snatch a few things from the back seat of his car and then clambering out of the driver's door. He kicked the door shut with the heel of his foot, throwing his cigarette butt to the ground and ignoring it as it splashed into a newly formed puddle. He was too interested in pulling on his leather duster and placing the fedora atop his head in order to protect himself from the now torrential downpour developing around him.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he narrowed his eyes in attempt to find the man he was looking for. _Where'd that asshat go…? _He huffed to himself, hunching his shoulders as he tried to stay warm. The rain was making it pretty damn cold. Walking away from the car, he headed down the street in an attempt to find where exactly Ginjõ Kũgõ had run off to.

After a moment, he stopped, having found the man in question leaning against the school wall next to the main gate, talking to an orange-haired punk who was soaked to the bone. _Orange hair, looks like a delinquent… ain't that the Kurosaki kid that defeated Aizen? _What the hell would Ginjõ want with the kid when his powers were gone? He didn't like this, and he like it even less when Ginjõ handed the kid something or other.

He made a hasty retreat, opting to spy around the corner he'd just come instead so neither party would spot him. Whatever Ginjõ was saying, he was either keeping it brief or he'd already said most of his part beforehand because the conversation was over almost a moment later. _Now this makes things a little more interesting… _he thought, pulling a mobile phone from his pocket as he walked back to his beaten-up car.

Hitting the top number in the phonebook, he pulled the car door open and dropped back down into the driver's seat as he listened to the dial-tone. After a moment's wait there was a snappish demand of _"What?_" from the other end of the line.

"Afternoon to you too, love, such a wonderful day, wouldn't you agree?" He heard a hateful hiss through the phone and he tried his best not to jeer any more than he already had. He'd gotten himself on thin ice already, and by the sounds of it, her mood had been far from pleasant before he even called.

"What do you want, Damien?" came the reply, as snappish as her greeting had been.

"Oh, nothing, really," the man called Damien sneered back, fumbling with his phone as he tried to find his open packet of cigarettes. "Just thought you'd like to know that I was having a pleasant time following Ginjõ like you ordered, when I spotted him having a conversation with an interesting fellow with whom you are acquainted."

"Kurosaki…" The woman spoke again, softer than before. Damien could tell without even seeing her that she was probably deep in thought over the this new development, and he chuckled softly to himself as he pictured the little frown she always made when doing such deep thinking. It was a pretty cute look on her. "This complicates matters. Ginjõ must want to try and get Kurosaki for his little collection… Xcution."

He nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "I bloody figured that much out for myself, didn't I?" he growled. "I wanna know what I'm supposed to do about the fuckin' situation now that this has gone and happened." There was only the soft hum of the phone connection. Likely, she was only half-listening to him, tuning him out as she thought about what to do.

"Pet?" he said when the silence stretched over about half a minute.

"I think we've played nice long enough," she replied shortly, and he grinned at those words. Such a declaration only meant one thing. "We'll have to move our plans up ahead of schedule – I'll contact Despair shortly; he should have everything ready to go by tomorrow if we must. We never planned on dealing with them, but if Ginjõ and his gaggle of wannabe super humans plan on trying to bring Kurosaki into their fold, it means restoring some measure of power to him. We can't have that.

"Damian, the Shinigami probably have some idea of our presence here and they'll know for sure in the next day or two; what we do to them now is of little consequence." _That's exactly what I wanted to hear you say, pet. _his grin was maniacal now, about ready to leap from his face because it could no longer contain it. "You are hereby given permission to exterminate Xcution."

She quickly hung up after that, not interested in hearing Damian cackle to himself with glee. _Finally! _He'd been so bored, itching to rip someone apart and now he was finally free to do so. Xcution would make an excellent warm-up for him; he was a little rusty after all. And after Xcution… after Xcution they'd move onto the Soul Society and Shinigami and at last he'd get to rain his wrath down upon them all.

They'd waited over two thousand years for this time to come, and it was finally here. It was time for some revenge on Soul Society for what they had done. It was time that justice was handed out.

* * *

><p><strong>And the plot thickens! Sorta... Ah well, tune in next time for Ichigo's talk with Urahara that will answer a few questions and propose a few more. See yo next week with <em>A Life In Chains<em>, folks. Remember, folks: don't forget to be awesome. **


	7. A Life in Chains

**You guys read this weeks Bleach chapter? Who knew Kubo had it in him... **

* * *

><p>…<strong>And Justice for All<strong>

**Act I - Enter the Unforgiven**

**Chapter VI **–_ A Life in Chains_

* * *

><p><strong>Thursday, 21<strong>**st**** of April**

Ichigo, dressed in an old purple hoodie, T-shirt and jeans, stared at the building before him. The place was falling apart at the seams, though the dull light of dusk didn't do it any kindness as it illuminated the old, rickety two-story shop. The rain had finally died off around an hour ago during dinner, and he'd quickly excused himself afterwards, saying Ikuami-san had him running a late errand or two because he'd missed his entire shift due to detention - school had not been cancelled as the building was given the all clear in the end. In truth, his boss had certainly given him an earful for that one.

Sighing to himself, he rubbed the back of his head with the palm of his hand, the conversation he'd had with the man calling himself Ginjõ earlier still ringing in his ears: "Storm's comin', Kurosaki and it's about time you decide who you're going to take shelter with…" he murmured to himself, echoing the man's words as he turned the Xcution card over and over in his left hand.

_Just what the hell is going on in this town right now? _He honestly didn't know, but he knew who might. "Might as well get this over with…" Stuffing the card into the pocket of his favourite pair of faded blue jeans, he set off towards the dilapidated old building that was the Urahara Shõten.

Urahara was far from the sanest man he'd ever met, and from what his father had told him about the blond Shinigami's past, he could understand why, to an extent. Whilst it was less than stellar, he'd at least had a reason for everything he did back in the days when Aizen was running amuck. He'd seen them through the worst of it and he owed his former mentor enough to approach him first and try and get some answers before running off to some shady group with a stupid name like Xcution for help.

Sliding the door open, he was greeted with a gruff, "Sorry, but we're closed," from somewhere behind a mountain of boxes. After a moment in which he said nothing, a familiar face popped out from behind the boxes, tilted at an angle so nothing below the chin could be seen, a floating head. "Oh, Kurosaki-san. I didn't realise it was you. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Tessai-san," Ichigo nodded in greeting as the giant man pushed himself to his feet, dusting himself off before walking out from behind the boxes and bowing in a more formal greeting. _He hasn't changed a bit… _the former Visored thought to himself, noting the same rectangular spectacles and handlebar mustache were still very much present. Heck, it looked like he was even wearing the same clothes from seventeen months ago! "I was wondering if Urahara-san was here or not."

"Urahara-dono had a feeling you might be dropping by at some point – he told me to just send you on through to the backroom when you arrived," the former Kido Corps Captain replied with a wiggle of his mustache, adjusting his glasses at the same time. Though something in the man's voice gave away he didn't exactly approve. Of what that was, Ichigo had no idea.

Nonetheless, Ichigo said a polite "Thanks" with a nod, deciding it was something that would be left unanswered form the time being. Without another word passing between the pair, the young man headed for the back of the shop room. He stepped up onto the little platform where Urahara liked to sit on his little cushion during business hours – the cushion concealed the trap door to and underground training arena – and slid through the slightly open door.

Looking around the dimly little corridor, Ichigo was surprised to see that, unlike the outside of the shop, the inside was still well looked after. Ichigo could swear the smell of fresh paint still lingered in the air as he walked towards the back room Urahara was usually found in when not attending to his shop… or putting people through hell underneath the shop. When he was eventually in earshot, the former Visored could make out voices conversing in the backroom, though they were muffled by the door. Wasting little time, he slid the door open when he reached it.

"Ah, Kurosaki-san! A little later than I expected, but nonetheless, you have arrived~" the rather jovial voice of one Urahara Kisuke said in greeting as he walked into the room. The blond shop keeper was sitting on top of a large cushion, a black cat of average size lounging on the low table in front of him. Between them sat a tea set, a saucer of milk and two cups. "Please, do come in."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. He'd already closed the door again and was half way to the table by the time Urahara offered him a seat. "Urahara-san, Yoruichi-san," he greeted formally, seating himself cross-legged opposite his former eccentric mentor. "Rukia," he added, his eyes darting to the side just in time to see the girl's eyes widen in surprise.

Rukia herself was seated on Urahara's right, dressed in her Shinigami garb. This meant she should have been completely invisible to Ichigo. But he could see her, or rather he could make her out like the ghosts he use to encounter before he became a Shinigami the first time; meaning he could partially see through her, though the objects behind her were blurred as a result, like she was some sort of odd lens. That said, he could pick out a few differences from the last time he saw her, like the white fingerless gloves she was wearing or that her now much longer hair was pulled up into a bun, held in place by an expensive-looking white butterfly clip.

All the while, Yoruichi was staring at him in awe, still lying on the table in her cat form whilst Rukia spluttered in shock, trying to find words. Urahara on the other hand, merely smiled at him, cooling himself by waving his stupid fan. "As expected of you, Kurosaki-san~! Though I must admit, you're a little ahead of my expectations at this point… I really should be used to it by now, shouldn't I?" The shop keeper chuckled to himself, ignoring the glare Ichigo quickly pinned him with.

"You _knew _this would happen eventually?" he demanded as his eyes went wide, his original reason for coming to Urahara completely forgotten. Then again, if he could weasel some straight answers about his renewed ability to see the otherworld again from Urahara, it wouldn't matter.

"Well of course, Kurosaki-san. I am Urahara Kisuke, after all. I know everything – apparently." The former Captain's reply was glib, and he was all smiles as his gaze flicked to Rukia over the top of his fan. Ichigo quickly realised this was probably a dig at something Rukia had said earlier, given she was now glaring at Urahara too. Meanwhile, Yoruichi just grumbled to herself in exasperation, though in her cat form, it came out more like a purr. "But yes, I did expect such a development. Though I honestly didn't expect to have to confront you over this matter for another year at least. I thought you would be trying to wrangle answers from me concerning… certain activities of late in Karakura Town."

"Yeah, that's part of why I'm here," Ichigo said stiffly, his eyes narrowed. Part of him couldn't help but feel like Urahara did not want to have this conversation – or at least discuss his returned abilities. "How'd you know this was gonna happen to me, anyway?" He wasn't going to let the man run away from this conversation so easily. He'd get his answers and then some, even if he had to lean across the table and shake them out of the eccentric Shinigami inventor.

"Indeed," Rukia put in, looking just as pleased as Ichigo with this latest revelation. "None of your reports to the Captain-Commander, Captain Hitsugaya or the one you gave me when I arrived mentioned anything about Ichigo's powers returning." _Tõshirõ…? _Ichigo honestly didn't know what exactly the tiny Captain had to do with this conversation, but part of him suspected it had to do with the Material World Corps. Rukia had previously mentioned that maybe he was the one unlucky enough to be in charge of it all.

"Because he's _not _regaining his powers," Urahara said in his own defense, though neither Ichigo nor Rukia missed the man's amused tone. From her spot down on the tabletop, Yoruichi let out a fake laugh, rolling her golden eyes as she pawed with the empty saucer which had contained some milk for her. "More accurately, he's not regaining his powers in the way you might think."

"Explain it so we might follow, Urahara," Rukia ordered curtly, her patience waning. Ichigo could understand to some extent: Urahara did always like to draw out important details and throw in extra ones or edit things out as it suited him. But today hadn't been pleasant in the least, so dealing with the man's usual antics really wasn't going to help anyone.

'_Make no mistake, Ichigo – I respect Urahara Kisuke, yes. Do I trust him? After what he's done, I'll _never _trust him.' _He recalled Rukia's words from back then, and he couldn't help but feel that they were deeply justified. But at the same time, the blond Shinigami _was _the only one with the answers. He had no choice but to trust the man would come through for him on some level or another. Urahara _owed _him that much.

"The Reset Principle." Urahara's voice suddenly became oddly solemn. He even folded his fan and placed it down on the table, intertwining his hands. "Understand, Kurosaki-san, I have always known you would someday regain your ability to see spirits after using the _Final Getsuga Tenshō_. I kept this from you because I honestly did, at the time, believe that you still desired some sense of normalcy after the loss of your powers. I believed that your ability to see spirits would return in time and if you wanted to find a way to get rid of the ability once more, I would be able to assist you. If not, well, no harm done."

"Gee, thanks," Ichigo sneered, wondering just when exactly Geta-Bõshi thought he'd earned the right to make that kind of decision for him. "I should have known from the start this could happen. I've been freaking out the past few weeks because I kept hearing ghosts I couldn't see. They were just voices in my head, for all I knew. I thought I was going insane!"

"As I said, I didn't expect your ability to perceive our world would return so quickly." Urahara raised his hands in mock surrender, though his smile never did quite disappear under Ichigo's stern gaze.

"Any idea what caused it to return at such a rapid pace, Kisuke?" Yoruichi asked, vision suddenly fixed on her old childhood friend.

"None whatsoever, Yoruichi," he answered, turning his attention to her and giving her a puzzled look. _Bullshit! _Ichigo roared to himself. He didn't even need to see the dirty look Yoruichi was giving Urahara to tell that the former Captain was lying through his teeth. If something had caused him to be able to see the dead again at a faster rate, then Urahara would know damn well what it was that doing it, or have a theory about it which was most likely correct. "But please tell me, Kurosaki-san," he continued, "how well can you see Kuchiki-san just now?"

_Steering the conversation away again, _Ichigo noted, grousing to himself. He would find out what Urahara wanted to avoid talking about. But right now, he needed to get as many straight answers as he could whilst Urahara was willing to give them. He'd come back to the stuff the former Captain wanted to avoid later. "She's kinda like how I used to see a standard ghost," he explained. "I can see her, but I can still see through her. It's the same with other ghosts. They've been fading in and out of my vision for the past day or so, and I've been hearing them on and off for the past two weeks or so."

"Any recurring chest pain you'd like to mention, too?" Urahara asked oh-so-casually, his usual goofy smile returning full force as Ichigo himself almost did a double take at the sudden question. _How does he know about my heartburn? _"It's not medical, Kurosaki-san," he said, as though reading Ichigo's mind. "It's your Chain of Fate repairing itself."

"Eh?" Ichigo blanched, looking about as lost as he felt with the current thread of conversation. "You severed that thing before you threw my ass down that damn shaft and made me a Visored!" Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Rukia's expression go from puzzled to shocked, and she gave Urahara an astonished, questioning gaze. _Never did tell her the exact details behind regaining my powers…_

"That's why it's called the Reset Principle," Urahara said, cupping his chin in thought, "though a Shinigami in the service of the Gotei Thirteen hasn't, on record at least, used the final technique of their Zanpakutõ in a good thousand years or so, so I _was_able to track down files relating to their use of the technique and its after effects."

"So all Zanpakutõ have their own final technique, not just 'ol man _Zangetsu_?" Ichigo questioned, slightly intrigued. He knew his old man's Zanpakutõ could utilize the technique, but he thought that was just because both of them could use the standard _Getsuga Tenshõ_.

"Yes, each Zanpakutõ has a final ability much like the _Final Getsuga Tenshõ_you and your father have utilized in the past," the blond Shinigami explained. "Completing _Jinzen_and being able to use said technique is actually what one needs to do in order to be eligible for promotion to Zero Division. But we're getting off topic, so as I was saying: any past use of the technique has of course been limited to Shinigami. So you're a unique case, Ichigo, as instead of losing your power and returning to Rukongai due to no longer being able to serve as a Shinigami, you were actually returned to a living body."

"It's like a blown fuse," Rukia murmured, more to herself than anyone else. But Ichigo didn't miss that Urahara was actually rather impressed with that deduction, smiling as he sent a slight nod of agreement in the petite girl's direction.

"Putting it simply, yes," Urahara stated, drawing all eyes back on him. "When the fuse goes in a household appliance, you replace it with a new one. When I had Tessai sever your Chain of Fate, Kurosaki-san, we, metaphorically speaking, blew your fuse. After you used the _Final Getsuga Tenshõ_and we placed you back in your body, we replaced that busted fuse with a new one. Your Chain of Fate repairing itself and binding you back to your body once again is the part where the plug is screwed back together properly. But using the _Final Getsuga Tenshõ _and returning to your body, you have basically been reset you to how you were prior to having Kuchiki–sans powers first introduced into your system.

"Of course, your Chain of Fate has been repairing itself at an accelerated rate, for whatever reason, and as a result, you have actually been feeling the process in your daily life. Had this not happened, you wouldn't have even noticed it happening at all and you would have just woken up one day, completely spiritually aware. But as well as causing you daily pain, the accelerated repair of your Chain seems to have had added side effects concerning your ability to see and hear the dead. Given the current rate of repair and your ability to see Kuchiki-san, I believe your Chain will be fully repaired before the end of next week. Most likely sooner."

Ichigo just nodded slowly, trying to swallow all of the information his former mentor was imparting to him. Hanging his head, he ruffled his hair as he tried to decided what to do with everything he'd been told. "You said I wasn't regaining my powers… what do you mean by that? I can see the dead again, maybe–"

"Ichigo," Rukia cut him off before he could finish his question, and when he turned to look at her he could clearly see her pained expression. "Your Chain of Fate being repaired means you are very much alive again. Very much _human_."

"But I was alive before and I still had my Shinigami powers!" Ichigo pointed out, looking back and forth between Rukia and Urahara, hoping one of them had some sort of answer for him.

"Well, _technically_speaking, by decree of Soul Society, your Chain of Fate had been severed – you were in all accounts dead in the eyes of the law of Soul Society," Urahara butted in, picking up his old fan and pointing it at Ichigo. "Something else you've done that no one else has achieved before: a severed Chain of Fate with a still usable human body. Though whether you actually were dead or not is something even I can't fully answer."

"I'm sorry, Ichigo, but there isn't… there isn't a way to return your powers to you this time," Rukia murmured as she hung her head in apology, not wanting to look him in the eye.

"Actually, there is," Yoruichi piped up, reminding everyone of her presence. "Ichigo, you have to understand this: the fact your farther is a Shinigami has nothing to do with the fact you were able to become one yourself. The only real direct influence that had on you was allowing you to see ghosts whilst you were alive. The fact you were able to become Shinigami is proof that you were one in a previous life, that you'd drawn that part of your soul out before in the past. It was just lingering below the surface waiting for your death before it emerged again, and it might have actually had an effect on your inability to hear _Zangetsu _prior to Kisuke restoring your powers to you. But the point is this: when a normal Shinigami uses the final technique, they merely lose their Reiatsu by sacrificing it all to perform one last unstoppable attack. But that Reiatsu slowly returns over time, with patience and a bit of training. That's why Kisuke calls it the Reset Principle."

"Meaning that you can regain your powers and return to your status as a Shinigami, but only when you die properly this time," Urahara finished for her. "As long as your Chain of Fate keeps you bound to life, you cannot regain your powers."

"So, I have to die; for real this time…?" Ichigo's voice cracked as he spoke, thecolourvisibly draining from his face. _Okay, forget what they said earlier being hard to take in, this is just… _His throat suddenly went dry. He tried to speak, but it was like his voice had run off somewhere. He wanted to help Rukia, he wanted to be able to protect his friends again, but he couldn't just let himself _die_. How could he do that to everyone? _To Yuzu and K__a__rin…?_

"If you wanted to regain your powers in this instance, yes," Urahara said as he tucked his fan back up his sleeve. Pulling off his hat, he ran a hand through his hair. "I have been doing some research into whether or not I could offer you an alternate solution if you wanted one when the time came for you to make the decision, but I've been coming up short for the most part. I did have a new solution that I thought might be promising, but current events have dragged me away from my research to assist with more important matters."

"More important matters? Like looking into whatever attacked the school today?" Ichigo asked, looking up from the spot in front him he'd suddenly found so interesting.

"Correct," Urahara announced as he plopped his hat back down on his head. "It would seem that a few–"

"Urahara," Rukia snapped, looking genuinely angry with the shopkeeper now, "Orders have forbidden Ichigo and his friends from becoming involved in this matter. _You _of all people should know this."

"_Your _orders prevent _you _from discussing recent events with Kurosaki-san and his friends. I on the other hand have no such orders, do I?" Urahara replied in a sing-song voice, watching with an amused smile as Rukia fumbled for words to counter his argument. Eventually admitting defeat, she growled and folded her arms over her chest. Her glare seemed to warn the former Captain not to go into too much detail. Nodding his understanding, Urahara turned back to Ichigo.

"For the past few weeks," he said, "there has been absolutely zero Hollow activity within Karakura Town and several strange Reiatsus have been appearing all over town before disappearing and reappearing every few days or so. It is our belief that these Reiatsus belong to Sinners escaped from Hell."

"Eh? Sinner? Like that Shrieker guy that I set to Hell that one time?" He didn't miss Rukia's slight shiver at the name, and he honestly couldn't blame her. Those were not memories he wasn't particularly fond of, either. Urahara, on the other hand, seemed rather intrigued. Whilst he was aware that Ichigo had indeed defeated the Hollow named Shrieker, he hadn't been told _that_little detail.

"_Now_ who leaves out important information?" Urahara chuckled, eyes flitting to Ichigo.

"It didn't seem important at the time," Rukia rebuked in her own defense. And Ichigo had to agree with her. The incident with Shrieker had been the only time during his stint as a Shinigami in which he'd encountered anything to do with Hell. After they'd banished Shrieker, Rukia had given him a little information; very little, seeing as she knew almost nothing about Hell herself and according to her, few people did.

"Funny, that sounds familiar," Yoruichi quipped, looking up from her spot on the table to smirk at Urahara, who had taken to hiding behind his fan and whistling to himself. Ichigo just glared at him. "But, Ichigo," she said, tone becoming serious, "I would advise you to be cautious over the next few days. There is little information about Sinners on record. If one did indeed attack the school, it might be they're targeting spiritually aware humans. I think it would be the best choice for you and you friends if you were at least aware of what might be after you."

_After me, more like… _Ichigo thought, but he nodded at Yoruichi's instruction nonetheless. It couldn't be a coincidence that the strange thing in black robes he'd seen the night before was what attacked the school that morning. At least he now knew _what_it was that was following him. _Or Tatsuki…_he suddenly realised that both times he'd seen that thing, Tatsuki had been the only other person present on both occasions, if unconscious the first time. A terrifying thought crossed through his mind. _Could it be after Tatsuki…?_

"Why would it be after one of us?" Ichigo forced out, trying to keep up a façade of casual curiosity whilst he dug for more information. If that Sinner thing really was targeting Tatsuki and not him, he needed to know why it had chosen her of all people.

"Impossible to say for sure," Urahara mused casually. His voice was cheerful as usual, but Ichigo could see his former mentor staring at him intently from behind the shadow cast by his hat. His eyes were hard and serious, almost as if he was staring right into the depths of Ichigo's mind. "There's too little confirmed information on Hell or its inhabitants, and what we do have is from long before the Gotei Thirteen was founded… back when the Shinigami were known as the Royal Court Guardsmen.

"They may be like Hollows in that they feed off stronger sources of Reiatsu to strengthen themselves; or it might possibly be some sort of sport – hunt the spiritually aware to test themselves." The shopkeeper clicked his fan shut before tapping it against his stubble-coated chin. "It's why the Captains are on edge. There's not been an on record escape from Hell in nearly two thousand five hundred years and all information pertaining to the crisis that ensued has been… _lost_."

The way Urahara said 'lost' told everyone present that he was well aware that the information he had been mentioned was anything but lost. It had been destroyed, possibly hidden on purpose. But either alternative left Ichigo with a bad feeling in his gut. Just what could have happened back then with a bunch of escaped Sinners that scared someone badly enough to go such lengths to hide all mention of it? _There's definitely a lot more g__o__ing on here than even Urahara-san knows…_ Which in itself was a scary concept. Not to mention the explanation had done nothing to ease his nerves as to what might happen over the next few days.

"I wanna help out," he said after a moment's thought. There was no way he was going to sit around and let his nerves get the better of him whilst who-knows-what went down around him without him even knowing about it.

"Impossible," Rukia stated before anyone else could say anything. And that was the end of it. Urahara never made any attempts to argue on his behalf and Yoruichi just turned to give him a pitying look. He'd never felt so abandoned, betrayed and helpless all at the same time. And he couldn't fight this, not this time.

So Ichigo just hung his head, pushing himself up from his sitting positioning and turning for the door. "Fine," he said, looking back over his shoulder, "I'll pass along everything you told me tomorrow at school, let everyone know what's going on and to watch their backs just in case." Urahara and Yoruichi both nodded, almost in sync whilst Rukia clambered to her own feet.

"It's late, Ichigo," she said. "I'll make sure you get home safe." He just nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His fingers tightened around a small rectangle. _The card that Ginjõ guy gave me… _he realised. And in a moment, his mind was made up. Ginjõ had warned him he couldn't trust Urahara to come through for him. _Guess he was right. _But that wasn't the question anymore. Could he trust this Ginjõ guy to help him any more than Urahara could? Just what did he want in return and would it be worth it?

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he almost missed Urahara calling on him. "Ichigo." The use of his given name caught his attention; he'd never once heard Urahara address him by it. "When you understand, come back and see me again; only then will you be ready."

Ichigo just stared at him, utterly confused. _That made no sense whatsoever… _and when he chanced a glance at Rukia, who was standing next to him, he found the look on her face said she agreed with him. But Urahara just smiled again, waving them off with an all-too-feminine flick of his wrist. He gave a stiff nod back. He had no idea what Urahara had meant, but he had a queasy feeling he'd figure it out soon.

Either way, he needed to get home. It was late, and he had an important phone call to make.

* * *

><p><strong>And another chapter down, so close to where things start picking up now, I promise. This chapter contains a little speculation on my part concerning what it takes to be a Zero and a little tying together of some information that was dropped in earlier chapters, be more of that in the next few chapters, too. Anyways, I'll see you guys all next week with chapter seven, until then, don't forget to be awesome~!<strong>


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